


Summer's Blood

by PettyMindedSneak



Series: Stone Angels [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Birth, Bisexual Male Character, Death, F/M, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Series, Pregnancy, Spinoff, latina, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-06-10 16:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 140,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PettyMindedSneak/pseuds/PettyMindedSneak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Edward met Bella, Nathan met Aeva. A human and vampire love story that runs parallel to the happenings in Forks, Washington and crosses paths. The vampire Nathan meets a human girl, Aeva. A feral, formerly nomadic vampire faces a steep learning curve when he must adjust to a life with a human family always watching him as well as a coven leader with a violent opposition to his new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abandoned

###  _Aeva_

      “Keep walking, keep walking,” he whispered excitedly into my ear.  
  
      “Jason, I’m going to trip!” I laughed at him. He was covering my eyes from behind.  
  
      “You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “Just a little farther now and… stop.”  
  
      “Will you uncover my eyes now?”  
  
      “Yes, are you ready?” He asked. I nodded excitedly and then his hands were gone. I was left staring out of a huge plate glass window at the most breath taking view of New York City I’d ever seen.  
  
      “Qué bella,” I breathed.  
  
      “If you think that’s nice, check out the actual apartment,” he laughed. I peered around and everything was beautiful. The living room was massive, the kitchen was completely modern, all the rooms were perfectly furnished, and I was in heaven.  
  
      “Oh my god, Jay!” I laughed, spinning in a circle to see everything again. “Es magnífico!”  
  
      “You really like it?” He asked, looking surprised. I ran to him and jumped up, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into an ecstatic kiss.  
  
      “Jay,” I said when I pulled away. “I love it!”  
  
      “Do you know what I love?” He asked, beginning to trail kisses across my shoulders.  
  
      “I couldn’t begin to imagine,” I replied, more than a little distracted.  
  
      “I love that soon, Aeva Sanchez won’t live here with me,” he purred. “Aeva Michaels will.” His kisses reached my mouth and stole my reply, but I think I got my point across well enough without it. It took only seconds for our kiss to become more than a kiss and after only a moment, his hands were searching around under my shirt. He picked me up, my legs curling around his waist, and carried me into another room: our bedroom. It had been furnished before we’d arrived and so the bed was ready and waiting. He laid me down and peeled off my shirt. Soon, we were both in only our underwear and Jason laid on top of me and began pushing my panties down and grinding.  
  
      “Jay,” I gasped, pulling away. “Jay, stop.” It took many more commands, and a little wriggling on my part, but I managed to get out from under him.  
  
      “Aeva, come on,” he groaned. There was a deep flush spreading over his body and his boxers sat over his lap in a rather upright fashion. “Please, baby, let me.”  
  
      “Jason,” I pleaded. “You know how I feel about this.”  
  
      “We’re getting married in two months!” He shouted. “Does it make that much of a difference?”  
  
      “I…I just want it to be special on our wedding night,” I muttered. Jason crawled across the bed and kissed my cheek.  
  
      “Every time with you will be special, Aeva,” he whispered. “It won’t matter if it’s the first or the thousandth time.”  
  
      “But, Jay, it’s my first,” I murmured. “My real _first_.”  
  
      “And the real _first_ is always a little awkward,” he chuckled. “And if you don’t want our wedding night to be uncomfortable, we have to get a practice run in.” I looked up at him and his face went from irritated to loving in an instant. “Aeva, trust me,” he said earnestly. “It will be fine.”  
  
      I was terrified. I had prided myself on having been able to date Jason, a guy three years my senior, without making sex part of the relationship. We’d met in my freshman year of high school, when he was a senior. We became friends and stayed in touch after he graduated. Then we became more than friends. We had our first kiss in my junior year and began dating the next week. And here I was, fresh out of high school and only eighteen, two months away from marrying the man of my dreams, and a virgin. I wanted my first time and my wedding night to be special, but did they have to happen at the same time? If I was going to marry him, be with him for the rest of my life; if my virginity would be his anyways, did it matter if I gave it to him early? Those were the thoughts running through my head as he took it.  
  
      “Are you alright?” Jason asked after a quiet minute. We’d finished and were lying beside each other, but not touching. “Aeva?”  
  
      “Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied honestly. “I was just thinking.”  
  
      “About what?” he asked, obviously relieved.  
  
      “About families,” I sighed. “You know how mine is about kids and all.”  
  
      “Ah, yes, how each couple must mass produce,” Jason chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Aeva. We don’t have to have kids.”  
  
      “But, I kind of want kids,” I replied, looking up at him. “I actually want to be a mother.”  
  
      “Okay then,” he laughed. “What my baby wants, my baby gets; we’ll have kids, millions of them.” My eyes bugged.  
  
      “Millions? Jesus, man, what do you think I am? A PEZ dispenser?”  
  
      “Okay, how about just a few?” he suggested, fighting a laugh.  
  
      “How about we start with one,” I replied, rolling my eyes.  
  
      “Sure, sure, just one,” he agreed. “Then we’ll work our way up.” I just rolled my eyes again and laid back down.  
  
      One month later, I was sitting in the living room having a melt down over the phone.  
  
      “Pero Mamá!” I shouted. “It didn’t come! I’m a week late and I’ve never been irregular!”  
  
      “Yo sé, bebé,” she cooed. “Have you taken a pregnancy test or been to the doctor?”  
  
      “I’ve done three pee sticks and I’m waiting for them now,” I groaned. “What am I going to do if I’m pregnant?”  
  
      “You’ll have a baby,” my mother laughed. “That’s generally the next step in the process.”  
  
      “How are you so calm about this?” I whined. “Why aren’t you freaking out too?”  
  
      “Porque, mi hija, this will not be my first grandchild,” she said evenly. “Your brother Manuel already gave me una nieta, and your sister has Lupe and Chuy.”  
  
      “Manuel’s daughter was first and you were fine with that, but you screamed at Frida when she got pregnant with little Lupe,” I countered.  
  
      “That was her second baby and she still had no money, no husband, or anything else,” she snapped. “But you are a month from your wedding to a handsome, kind man who loves you and is on a good career path and you are living in a penthouse in New York City. Your baby will be beautiful and healthy just like you were, but it will be happy too, because you will be a good mother.” Her words were punctuated with a ding that made me shriek.  
  
      “Oh my god, Mamá, that was the timer,” I whispered, as though it might hear me. “My sticks are ready.”  
  
      “Go look at them, mi estrella,” she urged, using her pet name for me. I went slowly to the bathroom where I’d left the pregnancy tests and went stone still when I saw them.  
  
      “Are you looking at them?” my mother asked.  
  
      “Yes.”  
  
      “And what do they say?” she continued, not sounding terribly interested.  
  
      “Mamá, yo soy embarasada.”  
  
      “You’re embarrassed?”  
  
      “No, Mamá,” I groaned. “I said it right. Soy embarasada. I’m pregnant.”  
  
      “That’s wonderful!” she laughed. “My little Aeva Estrella is going to give me a grandchild!”  
  
      “Qué?” I heard someone shout. I recognized it as my brother, Manuel. “Aeva’s pregnant?”  
  
      “Yes! Tell your sisters!” Mamá called back.  
  
      “Frida! Lidia!” Mauel shouted. “Aeva’s preggo!”  
  
      “Oh my god!” Frida screamed. Her voice was soon drowned out by a multitude of others and I hung up the phone. I let it drop to the floor with a clatter. I should be excited too, but I decided to leave that to my family, half of which seemed to be at my mother’s just then, though that wasn’t unusual. I couldn’t really feel anything. All I could do was think. What would I do when I had my baby? How would I tell Jason? Would it look like him?  
  
      I pictured him then: his muscular body; his bright blue eyes; his sleek red hair; his freckled skin. I wouldn’t mind having a baby Jason. What if it looked like me? I glanced up from the tests to the mirror above the sink. I stared at my dark, wavy hair; my big, black eyes; my even, brown skin; my big lips; my heart shaped face. I wouldn’t mind having a baby me either. Just then, I jolted as I heard the apartment door open. I whipped around and listened as Jason came in and set down his briefcase and coat like he always did.  
  
      “Aeva?” he called, sounding confused. I was usually cooking when he came home. He always had just enough time to shower and change before dinner was ready. I should have been cooking; he knew something was up.  
  
      “Aeva?” he said again, much closer now. I watched, totally frozen, as the bathroom door opened.  
  
      “What’s up, baby?” he asked worriedly, taking in my wide, terrified eyes. He glanced around the room and he too went rigid when his eyes landed on the tests in the sink. “Aeva, what are those?” he asked quietly. I couldn’t speak. He glared at me. “What the hell are those!” he said, raising his voice. “Are you _pregnant_?” I was still frozen, but he understood.  
  
      “Jesus Christ!” he shouted, running his hands through his neat hair. “Jesus Christ! This is terrible!” My eyes narrowed in an instant.  
  
      “What?” I hissed. “Weren’t you the one that wanted a million kids?”  
  
      “Yeah, later!”  
  
      “Well it would have been later if you weren’t so damn eager to get in my pants!” I shrieked. “This is not just my fault! Besides, we’re getting married! What difference does it make?”  
  
      “All the difference in the world!” he laughed coldly. “I’m at the beginning of a very promising law career. I can’t have a wife and kid at home! I have things to do, places to go!”  
  
      “You can’t do any of that with a wife and kid, but just a wife is fine?” I scoffed. “You can drag me places, but not our baby?”  
  
      “Yes, I can drag you places,” he snapped. “I got you to New York, didn’t I?”  
  
      “Jason!”  
  
     He tried to compose himself. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said through his teeth. “Let’s just go to the clinic and take care of this. Nothing has to change.”  
  
      “Take care of it? _Take care of it_? I will not get an abortion, Jason,” I laughed. “I won’t kill this baby just for existing. This isn’t its fault.”  
  
      “Aeva, you can’t have this baby and expect me to stay,” he said sternly.  
  
      “And you can’t kill this baby and expect _me_ to stay,” I spat. We continued to fight for most of the night and while I slept in our bed, Jason slept out on the couch.  
  
      When I woke up, it was later than usual. I realized quickly that that was because Jason’s alarm clock was gone. All of Jason’s stuff was gone. He’d ditched me during the night. I ran out into the kitchen and began throwing open cabinets. He’d taken a few odds and ends, but he’d left the food. I didn’t care about that. I hopped up on the counter and shoved the chips and boxes of pasta aside. I didn’t care if I had food, what I needed was a jar: the jar that held our credit cards. It was gone.   
I dashed across the counter tops to the refrigerator and ran my hands frantically over the top. This was where we kept the checkbook unless one of us had it. It was gone. I darted around the house, checking any and all the spots where we kept money. I grew more and more panicked as each one came up empty. Jason had left me alone in New York City—alone and pregnant—with no money.  
  
      I had no job; he’d asked me not to work so that I could leave with him on a moment’s notice. I had no real education; I’d planned to come here rather than attend college. I didn’t have any personal funds; I’d blown them all on trying to help pay for this place. In two weeks, when I couldn’t pay the rent, I’d have no home either. I was shaking so hard that I had to sit down or I might have fallen off of the counter top.  
  
      I just sat on the floor and shook; I was scared, terrified even. I was hyperventilating, I was muttering denials, I was rocking back and forth, but I was not crying. My body would not create tears, and so I knew that this was bound to have happened. Whenever I lose something that’s worth having, I cry, but only if it’s worth having. I did not cry now; some part of me had always known Jason was a deserter. I think I had always known he would leave me: it was obvious. He left his parent’s house as soon as he could, he avoided his family if they had issues, he stopped talking to friends if they had troubles. He had never done anything that might have suggested he would react differently to a problem with me.  
  
      And so I sighed.  
  
      That one sigh—just a disappointed, albeit shaky, exhale—was as close to tears as I would ever come over Jason. He didn’t deserve anything more. I pushed myself up off of the ground and went to the bathroom to shower. I dried my hair, dressed, and did my make-up. I folded up all of my clothes and put them into suitcases. (At least he’d left me those) Then I went down to the lobby, dragging my bags behind me. I trudged up to the desk that the landlord sat behind to play doorman.  
  
      “I’m leaving,” I said flatly.  
  
      “Oh, going to catch up with Jay?” he replied conversationally. “He left last night.”  
  
      “I know, Mr. Juny,” I said tiredly. “And he was wondering, because it’s such a hassle to move and all, how much you might give us for the furniture in our apartment.”  
  
      “Didn’t you have leather couches?” Mr. Juny asked, leaning forward.  
  
      “Two, with matching chairs,” I urged. “And a mahogany dining table. Would you like to make an offer?”  
  
      “A thousand for the lot,” he said, sitting back in his chair.  
  
      “Mr. Juny, do you think I’m an idiot?” I laughed good naturedly. “Each couch cost one thousand alone. You’ll have to do better than that or I’ll take the stuff somewhere else.”  
  
      “Five,” he grunted. “Five thousand. That’s the best I can do.”  
  
      “I’ll take it,” I said with a smile. He wrote out a check and I pocketed it. I had a little bit of money now, but even five thousand wasn’t much in New York. Naturally, the teller at the bank was a little suspicious of me trying to cash a five thousand dollar check. I had her call Mr. Juny and, after a little persuading, I’d opened a checking account and gotten a debit card. Now I needed a place to live. Obviously, a place like what Jason and I’d shared was not an option. I also needed a job, and even though there were nice and slightly cheaper places nearby, they weren’t close to any where I could work. I couldn’t blow money on taxis, not with a baby that I needed to save up for. And even though long walks wouldn’t be much for me, six months from now, when I’d ballooned out, I couldn’t walk that far. I had to live close to my job, but where would I work?  
  
      My mother had been a cleaning woman for year, and she said that had helped our family financially. She’d even said she’d done it while she was pregnant. Aeva the cleaning woman? Papá had worked in a factory, and when all four of us kids started school, Mamá had gotten a factory job too. I’d always been a sturdy kid; I could handle a factory job. There were factories on the south side…  
  
      The next day, I had secured a job for myself in a textile mill that provided housing and started my training. I was following another worker, Henrietta, to my station.  
  
      “You come in here right when you get here,” she said, stepping to the space that I would be working in. It was tiny, about six feet by six feet, but it was mostly occupied by the machines I’d have to use; only about three feet square was left to move in. The machines were set up so that on three sides of my square, I was blocked off. There was one way in and one way out of the space. Behind me was another station, set up just the same but in reverse. The entire room (which was massive, the size of an aircraft hanger) was filled with these tiny stations and people busily working. I noticed there were very few men.  
  
      “You can’t keep men on,” Henrietta explained when I asked her about it. “Can’t handle the monotony. Now, pay attention; Imma show you how to work this thing.” She turned forward to a long table of metal rollers which at the opposite end held a metal chute with a bit of fabric sticking out.  
  
      “You pull this out,” she said, grabbing the fabric and pulling it out over the rollers. “This is the plain piece. It’s just been power washed before it comes here, so you gotta let it sit for a second and let the soap drain out.” As she said this, I watched milky white water drip from the piece and into a little tub under the rollers.  
  
      “Now, you peel it off.” She grabbed one corner of the fabric and pulled it up. “Then you get it on your shoulder and yank the hose down.” She pulled on a shower head looking thing and brought it to the piece. “The water’s hot, but it won’t burn you unless it hits you directly, which it might, cuz some of these hoses spit.” She clamped a switch on the side of the nozzle and a steaming jet of water shot out at the fabric. “Your hose is good. If you get a faulty one, tell maintenance; they’re always pacing the aisles and they’ll switch the spout. Anyway, you gotta spray the piece, one: to make sure all the soap’s out and, two: to get it evenly wet.”  
  
      Then she turned to the machine on her right. It looked like a stove, but it had quarter sized holes all over its surface.  
  
      “This is the dry dye,” she explained. “Gives the fabric its color. Yours is doing blue. Now, the piece on your shoulder is heavy, but you can’t use two hands to hold it; you gotta have one had free to get the dry piece off this,” she explained, jabbing a thumb at the dry dye. “Yours is empty now, cuz no one’s been using this station, but there will usually be a piece on there. Also, it ain’t right now, but once it’s being used, the metal top gets hot. Don’t touch it. But, now, you set this wet piece on there.” She slid it on and the piece was exactly the same size as the metal top.  
  
      “Now there’s this red button here,” Henrietta said over the noise of the factory. “It shoots dye out of the holes we just covered. Its powder, but they get it hot so it melts when it hits the fabric. The water in the fabric makes the melted dye spread all even through the piece. When you hit the button and the dye shoots there’s gonna be steam and you gotta hold your breath for that; it’ll burn the skin out of your throat if you breathe it in. And stand back, cuz sometimes, the steam makes your piece slip and a jet of that hot dye is gonna shoot out. Usually though, it’s fine cuz you’re ducked down to pick up the dry piece you put on the floor. But anyways…” and she pressed the button. There was a terrific hiss and a huge cloud of billowy white steam.  
  
      “Now,” she shouted over the hiss. “We have to leave it there for a while. Usually, you’re working with the dry piece and starting a new wet one while the dye sets. Takes about forty seconds. I’ll go ahead and start your second wet piece.” She worked and I watched the piece on the dry dye. It looked tie dyed at first, but the white gaps quickly filled in with a deep navy blue until it was all one even color. Suddenly, Henrietta’s hands pulled the piece off and set it on the floor. She spread the second piece on top of the dry dye and hit the button. Then she scooped up the dry piece from the floor.  
  
      “Now we come to the end of the rotation,” she said, turning one hundred and eighty degrees to a large metal box. “You set the piece inside and hit this,” she pressed a white button on the side, “to count it. Your day is done when the box is filled.” She turned around and started another wet piece.  
  
      “Now, in this place, we don’t need to punch in or punch out. Each station is monitored by a computer. It has a name programmed into each station so we know who’s working there. The first time you hit the button on the dry dye, it marks you as having come in and starts the clock.” She grabbed the hose. “When the dry dye is inactive for two minutes straight, it logs you as having left your station and the clock stops. For you to get a full day’s pay, that clock has to run for at least eight hours. Thing is though, it don’t take eight hours to fill the box.” She hit the button on the dry dye. “Takes about seven. A siren will go off about two hours into the day, and that signals a break. It lasts fifteen minutes. The clock keeps running through your break. It also keeps running through lunch, which is half an hour, and afternoon break; that’s fifteen minutes again. Lotta girls think you can rearrange those breaks and still get full pay. Uh uh.” She started a new piece. “The computer’s gonna stop if you take a break when it’s not programmed to let you have one. Now keep watching, I’ll do it once more.”  
  
      I watched her, but not her work. Henrietta was a tall woman, probably in her mid forties. She had deep brown skin and her black hair was tied back with a bandanna. She had a proud face with high cheek bones and a broad nose; it seemed wrong to see her stooping down to pick up fabric, to see her sweating bullets in a factory.  
  
      “Ready?” she asked. I nodded and we traded places. I pulled the clean piece, but it was harder to get down then I’d expected. Henrietta laughed.  
  
      “You made it look so easy,” I grunted, tugging it down.  
  
      “No, honey,” she chuckled. “It ain’t easy. It ain’t hard, but it ain’t easy. But it’s good money, and we got an honest employer.”  
  
      “There’s a shortage of honesty in the world,” I sighed, squeezing the hose. It jerked my arm back, and I let go. I tried again, ready for the kick this time. It was a cinch.  
  
      “Good job,” Henrietta praised, watching me with the hose. “And what do you know about the world, honey? You just a kid, you ain’t been around long enough.”  
  
      “I’ve been around long enough to get engaged to a rich guy,” I said, sliding the hot piece off the dry dye. “Long enough to get pregnant.” I slid the wet piece on. “And long enough for him to leave me when I did.” I hit the button and held my breath. Suddenly, I felt arms around me: Henrietta was hugging me.  
  
      “Honey, don’t tell me that,” she said gently. “Don’t tell me that. My baby girl just run off with some boy just like that. Don’t tell me things like that; she can’t end up like me. Lord, don’t let her end up like me.” I knew this was exactly what my mother would say and it brought tears pricking at my eyes.  
  
      “She won’t, Henrietta,” I said quietly. “He’s bound to be better than who I found.” She let me go, but pulled my face around with her rough hands so that I was looking at her.  
  
      “Some one’s gonna find _you_ ,” she whispered. “And they gonna be the greatest thing you ever seen and they gonna love you like there’s no tomorrow and they gonna get you out of this factory. And when it happens, honey, then I’ll believe my daughter won’t end up here. I’ll believe there’s a chance for her in this world, cuz if god won’t grant you what you deserve, no one else gonna get it either.” And then she left. I looked across the little row at the girl working behind me, and she was staring with big eyes.  
  
      “What’d you do?” she asked in a thick Mexican accent. “Henri don’t talk to anybody, ever.” I shrugged and she returned it and we both went back to work. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and everything hurt: my shoulder, my back, my hands, my throat. I stumbled into my assigned apartment and collapsed on the little bed. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. Suddenly, my stomach lurched and I ran to the bathroom to vomit. It was a reminder, almost proof, of what was inside of me. No matter how much it hurt, I knew I’d have to keep working at the factory, because no matter what Henrietta said, no one was going to come save me. I had to keep myself and my baby alive somehow.  
  



	2. Burnt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Nathan. Watch him meet Aeva too.

###  _Nathan_

      “Vhere vill you go, Nataniel?” He demanded.  
  
      “I don’t know where I’ll go, Viktor!” I roared, whipping around to face him. “Anywhere is better than here. I’m sick of you showing me off; I’m not your pet. Everyday, you drag me to meet some new person just so I can rattle off things about their past and _astound_ them like it’s some goddamned parlor trick. And today, oh my god, today was the worst! How could you do that to me?”  
  
      “Do vhat? And since vhen do you call me Viktor?” he asked, looking like I’d slapped him in the face.  
  
      “I just don’t think I can appropriately apply the term ‘father’ to someone that tricked me into drinking human blood,” I hissed. He rolled his eyes.  
  
      “Nataniel, is that vhat this is about? It vas in a cup, it vasn’t even varm. It’s not like you killed her.”  
  
      “But I knew her!” I shrieked. “I’ve met her before! You’ve never understood how upsetting things like this are for me. She had three children, did you know that? Did you know that her husband died a year ago? That she has no relatives? Where are those kids now?”  
  
      “I don’t know!” He laughed. “Vhy does it matter?”  
  
      “I shouldn’t have to keep explaining myself to you. You can’t just mess with people’s lives like that.”  
  
      “They’re only humans,” he laughed.  
  
      “We were human too,” I said, now slightly desperate. He _had_ to understand; I didn’t want to leave him, but I couldn’t stay if he didn’t understand. “Are we better than them now? Are we better than the thousands of people that could easily be the same way that we are? The people you can’t survive without?”  
  
      “How vould you have me remedy the situation?” He asked, throwing out his hands. “You vant me to only kill strangers? Vould that be better? To kill only those vith lives you don’t know about? Or how about just the ones vith no families? No matter vhat, I vill be killing humans, I vill be stealing lives.”  
  
      “Try my way, father, please,” I begged. “I can’t stay with you, not when I know what you’re doing. I can’t stand it.”  
  
      “I can’t drink animal blood, it’s awful stuff,” he grunted. “I’ve tried it and honestly, I don’t know how you do it. Ve aren’t monsters to do vhat comes naturally to us.”  
  
      “No, but you could overcome those instincts if you tried. You just won't, even when I beg you to,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I can’t stay here.” And I left.  
  


# …

      “Nathan?”  
  
      I jumped. It was just Gerard calling for me. I shouldn’t spend so much time alone; it made me think about my father.  
  
      “Coming,” I called back. I picked up the tray of lunch I’d made and carried it into his room. His bed was empty and the blankets were gone. I would have panicked, but I could still smell him in the room. He was in front of the window, all bundled up, sitting in an easy chair he’d dragged over.  
  
      “Don’t tell Mary,” he said, looking up at me as I put the tray in his lap.  
  
      “Why would I tell the nurse?” I chuckled. “What’s it to me if you want to sit by the window?” I saw his eyes dart past me, back to the bed. I checked behind me and saw his walker still beside the pillows. When I looked back at him he had his eyes lowered like a child that’s in trouble.  
  
      “Gerard,” I sighed.  
  
      “I know,” he groaned, looking up at me. “I know I should use the damn thing, but what’s wrong with my cane? I’ve used it ever since the war. What’s wrong with it now?”  
  
      “The doctor said it’s hurting your shoulder,” I replied, settling into the window seat. I could see the clouds shifting around. “Mary isn’t still here, is she?” I asked, watching the sky nervously.  
  
      “No, she left an hour ago,” Gerard grumbled, breaking crackers into his soup. I leaned against the glass and reveled in the sun hitting my back when the clouds finally opened.  
  
      “You don’t know how lucky you are to be able to just sit in the sun whenever you’d like,” I sighed, turning my head so the sun warmed my cheek.  
  
      “I’m not the lucky one between us,” he laughed, flicking a grape at me. I caught it without looking. “See, that, right there. I could never do that. Even when I was younger I couldn’t move like that, and you were slowed down.”  
  
      “I was not,” I lied. Gerard rolled his eyes at me.  
  
      “Sure, sure,” he muttered. “Just like I’m a twenty five year old.”  
  
      “You know, I wouldn’t mind the aging,” I sighed, setting the grape back in the little fruit salad I’d made him. “I could stay in one place for more than a few years.”  
  
      “Yeah, and then you could get arthritis and fall apart like me,” he said with much false enthusiasm. “I’m ninety two. I’m so close to death’s door, I could lick the handle and you? You’re no closer to it than you were three hundred years ago.”  
  
      “I’m only two hundred and fifty and anyway, I wouldn’t mind being a little closer to death.” He looked at me like I was insane.  
  
      “Why on earth would you want to die?” he asked quietly. “I’ve never known a person as good as you are, and you’d just throw that away? Think of what you could teach the world.”  
  
      “The world’s had two hundred and fifty years to learn from me. If they haven’t gotten it yet, I doubt they ever will,” I laughed bitterly. “And how good am I really? Just by being around you, I smashed your face against death’s door; I’m shoving you under the crack at the bottom.”  
  
      “Oh, yeah, yeah, the vampire cops,” he said, shooing the air with his hands. “What they hell are they gonna do to me that’s worse then having to ask someone to help me wipe my ass? Sometimes I think dying would be easier than being embarrassed like that.”  
  
      “Sometimes I think dying would be easier than staring at an eternity in front of me, knowing that excellent soldiers like you have to wither and die while I just sit and watch,” I muttered.  
  
      “You think I was an excellent soldier?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “That was when I was just a sprite,” he sighed, looking past me and out the window. “Nineteen. Seems a shame that my youth got wasted in war. Least you get to spend yours however you want, no matter what year it is. Still, there’s one thing I don’t envy you and that’s not having kids. My kids were the best thing to ever happen to me.”  
  
      “They’re pretty great,” I agreed, thinking about when I’d met them last year at Christmas. I hadn’t seen them since. “They should visit more often.”  
  
      “Nah, they’ve got lives to live,” he laughed. “They don’t have all eternity ahead of them, see; got better things to do than watch their old man fall to bits.”  
  
      “Happy birthday, Gerard,” I laughed, leaning forward and giving him a hug. “Happy birthday, you decrepit old thing.”  
  
      “Oh shut up,” he chuckled.  
  
      It really did bother me that it was their father’s birthday and his kids were nowhere in sight. He hadn’t gotten so much as a phone call all morning. It bothered me when humans didn’t realize what great people were in their lives; Gerard was one of the funniest men I’d ever met, and no one seemed to care. Even Mary, his nurse, had no idea what he was like.  
  
      I’d first met Gerard thirty years prior, when I had been taking care of an elderly woman, Nancy. By that time, I’d been away from Viktor for just shy of two decades. After leaving him, I stayed with a string of old people. I just hung around and took care of them, kept them company. Every single one of them knew that I wasn’t normal, but you’d be surprised how many oddities a person will overlook if you smile and are honestly happy to see them every day. Gerard was the first one I’d out right told about being a vampire. He took it like a pro, figuring if I hadn’t killed him yet, I wasn’t going to.  
  
      Gerard was my fifteenth old person, and I figured he’d be my last. It was hard to get attached to them and watch them pass away. I needed a break from the dying. Perhaps I would go back to college and get a degree; something interesting and time consuming, like philosophy or biochemical engineering.  
  
      “So tell me, Nathan,” he said after he had finished his lunch. “How many girls have there been in your two hundred some years? I expect it’s tough to keep them away.”  
  
      “There have been a few people,” I said, clearing up his dishes. “I got married when I was twenty though.”  
  
      “What was she like?” he asked, hoisting himself up with his cane. I had him switched into his walker before he’d straightened his back.  
  
      “She wasn’t much of a wife,” I sighed, thinking about my loveless marriage. “She didn’t know if she liked me, but she was getting old; she was almost twenty three.”  
  
      “Old?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
      “It was old back then,” I laughed. “Women usually had two, maybe three kids by then. So she married me and then divorced me two years later. I was turned three years after that, so I guess it wasn’t that big of a deal.”  
  
      “She divorced you? Why? What did you do?” he pressed.  
  
      “While I did have some family issues, she left because of something that she did.”  
  
      “Meet anyone better afterward?”  
  
      “Yeah, there were a few someones,” I replied curtly. This was not a subject I spoke about with anyone.  
  
      “So not the love of your life?” He surmised. “Certainly not the love of your existence.”  
  
      “No,” I laughed. “But that could be out there I suppose.”  
  
      “Well, that ought to be reason enough for you to stay alive,” he huffed as we went down the stairs. “I tell you, my wife was _the one_. Wouldn’t have mattered if I was a human, a vampire, a fish, a worm; she was it for me, through and through. I really hope you find something like that, and I hope she’s a vampire like you, so you never have to live without her again. Because I’ll tell you, pal, these five years without Martha have felt longer than the sixty years I had with her. I mean, once you lose a love like that, they shouldn’t make you keep going, you know?” I smiled and helped him the rest of the way down the stairs.  
  
      That night, Gerard died of heart failure; it just stopped beating.  
  
      I was in the room when it happened and I knew that if I beat his chest, if I did CPR, I could’ve revived him. But I didn’t; I couldn’t make myself. He’d been done: he’d fought his battles, found his love, and had his children. It was just a waiting game until the end and I couldn’t bring myself to draw it out for him. I just laid down in my prop bed at the other end of the house and waited for Mary to come. When she found him, she came to my door and whispered the sad news. I called his family while she arranged for the body to be taken away.  
  
      “Where will you go now that grandpa’s dead?” Amerie, Gerard’s granddaughter, asked. It was a week later and we were just leaving the funeral. “You know, you’re practically part of the family now. You’re welcome to stay with me.” I glanced over at her.  
  
      She was fairly pretty, I suppose. She had long blond hair and charming brown eyes, but she didn’t stir anything within me. And she was very clearly hoping to stir _something_.  
  
      “I actually have a job lined up in another state,” I lied. “I’m moving to New York tomorrow.”  
  
      “New York!” She gasped. “Like, the city?” Hm, New York City; I had been thinking the state, but since she had mentioned it, the city sounded pretty good.  
  
      “Yeah, NYC,” I said. I’d paused to think it over, but it was so short she hadn’t registered it. “Maybe I’ll see you again though.”  
  
      “You’ll have to give me your new address, so I can send you a Christmas card,” she said, trying to take my hand. I crossed my arms. “Well, anyways,” she sighed, patting her hair to cover up her movement. “Good luck in the city.”  
  
      That night, I threw my clothes into a back pack and started to run. I was only in New Jersey, I’d be in NYC by morning and besides, I hadn’t been able to just run in a long time. As I ran, I thought about what Gerard had said.  
  
      What if I met the love of my life and they weren’t a vampire? What if they were just a human? I supposed then I could turn them, couldn’t I? I mean, it would be tough to handle a new born, but if they were really the love of my life, I would manage. And if I couldn’t, perhaps I could go to Viktor for help. Maybe I could even stay with him because what if they were like he was? What if they couldn’t bring themselves to live off of animals like me? I couldn’t just leave them, not if I really loved them. Would it be so hard to stay with my father and my lover? Even if they could live off of animals, I would go back to Viktor; the two of us together could convince him to make the switch.  
  
      When I finally did get to the city, it was early morning, but I could tell it was going to be a sunny day. I had to get into some place shadowy. I ran through the city until I got to an area made up mostly of factories where the smoke stacks produced enough noxious clouds to keep the sky overcast. I finally stopped running and took in the sights. This part of the city was rather unimpressive, especially with the smattering of shifty eyed people sitting in the alleys.  
  
      I needed something to do; I was bored. I’d always gotten bored easily. I’d never really had any interests that I could pursue alone. I needed company to keep interested, so I walked around, listening to conversations and reading signs to see what I might be able to do to pass the day.  
  
      “We need another shipment of nozzles for those damn hoses,” I heard a rather important sounding voice complain. “They’ve got to be of a higher grade metal though; these ones are getting warped by the heat of the water. They’re spraying back on my girls.”  
  
      “I still don’t see why you don’t switch to conveyor belts, Steve,” another, more nasally, voice replied. “Just go fully automated; then it won’t matter if your hoses spray back. There’d be no one for the water to hit.”  
  
      “Yeah, but I mean, I’ve got a thousand women on those tanks,” the first man sighed. “Not to mention all the ones weaving and cleaning the fabric, and then the ones working the machines to fit the sheets on the suitcases. Conveyor belts would wipe out nearly eight hundred jobs.”  
  
      “Oh, Jesus, Steve,” the second man laughed. “You can’t be serious? You’re worried about switching to conveyor belts—which would make you more money—because you don’t want to lay off your employees?”  
  
      “Oh, don’t make me out to be some humanitarian, Ed,” the first man, Steve, groaned. “I’m paying those girls minimum wage for maximum hours, alright? I’ve thought about this economically already anyways. One automated assembly line will produce twenty five percent less fabric then a line of my girls in their tanks. And even though I wouldn’t have to pay the thing a salary, I’d have to buy it in the first place and then pay to have it installed and maintained. Filling my factory with conveyor belts would cost some huge money, and I wouldn’t make it all back for ten years, and they still wouldn’t be producing as much product as my girls are. For the same price as one automated assembly line, I could renovate the building and install fifty more tanks.”  
  
      “Alright, I see where you’re coming from,” Ed agreed. “You’re sticking with employees?”  
  
      “Yeah, and when you stick with employees, you’re stuck caring for your work force,” Steve sighed.  
  
      “Amen to that,” laughed Ed. “So what are you gonna do? Those nozzles’ll be a pretty penny. What, ‘bout thirty thou?”  
  
      “Just about,” he sighed. “And that’s the cheap ones. Good ones are thirty five.”  
  
      These two seemed like fun.  
  
      “You wouldn’t happen to be the owner of that suitcase factory, would you?” I asked, making both men look at me. I happened to glance at Ed first, and in rushed his story.  
  
      _Eddie Burbage. Born April 9, 1948. Grew up in Minnesota. Only child. Son of Harold and Elizabeth Burbage. Went to college at NYU. Never graduated, but had forms forged to get a bachelor’s degree. Owns a small paper company in Manhattan. Married with three children. Wife kicked him out of the house last week. Now staying with longtime friend Steve Meder._  
  
      Then I looked at Steve.  
  
      _Steve Meder. Born November 13, 1950. Grew up in Rochester, New York. Has one sister, Julia. Son of Alicia Meder. Never met father. Graduated from NYU with a master’s degree in 1976. Owns both the Meder’s textile mill and Meder’s suitcase lining factory. Happily married with one son._  
  
      It took about half a second to process each man’s story as it appeared in my head, but about three seconds for them to register what I’d said and approach. I had always been able to get those sort of abstracts of people's lives in my head ever since I'd been turned. Viktor called it my gift. Whatever it was, it let me know all sorts of things about a person before they ever opened their mouths. My gift also kept me privy to each person's story as it developed, meaning if they lied to me about what they had done, I heard that in my head too. That feature had always been more useful than the synopsis. However, when it came to humans, my gift just made it hard for me to hunt. I'd adjusted to it well though and used it to my benefit on a regular basis.  
  
      “I’m Nataniel Wulff, Nathan for short,” I said, sticking out my hand. Steve gripped and shook it firmly.  
  
      “Steven Meder, of Meder’s textiles,” he said with a grin. “And what can I help you with?”  
  
      “Well, I’m from NYU—business major—and I’m doing a paper on big business,” I lied smoothly. “I was hoping I might get an interview with you, to see what it’s really like to own a factory. I mean, so many people are going entirely automated, I wanted to find out what it’s like to not only deal with the financial end, but the employees as well.”  
  
      “Well, I suppose I have a little time this morning,” he huffed, obviously flattered. “Sure, sure, Nathan. Come on in with us. Ah, this is my associate, Eddie Burbage.”  
  
      “You own a paper factory, right?” I asked, shaking his hand.  
  
      “Yeah, I do,” he said, sounding shocked. Clearly, he was used to being unknown.  
  
      “Shall we go up to the office, then?” Steve asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.  
  
      “I was really hoping I might get a chance to see the factory,” I replied. “I want to know what really goes on down there, maybe talk to a few workers. I mean, they do get breaks, don’t they?”  
  
      “Oh, I see what kind of interview this is going to be,” Steve laughed. “You’re one of those worker’s rights people; probably a reporter to boot. Well, go on down to the factory. I haven’t got anything to hide; I take very good care of my workforce. I’m even working on getting new, safer equipment.” I was then taken into the office building and handed off to a woman in a tired looking business suit. Her story flashed through my head and revealed that she was Susan Jones, head of HR. She took me to the factory, but not the production floor. We stood at a window looking out over the huge room full of women working the machines.  
  
      “This is the dye room,” she explained. “On the other side of the building is the cleaning station. The fabric is cleaned thoroughly once it is imported and processed. Then it is sent in here to receive its color.”  
  
      “And what is the process that they’re going through?” I asked, taking a little note pad and pencil from my bag. It would look suspicious for me to do an interview and not take notes.  
  
      “Well, they take the cleaned piece out of the metal chute, which comes from the cleaning station,” she explained. “Then, they hose it down with hot water and place it on the dry dye, which applies the color and dries the piece. After that, they stack it and count it and repeat the process.”  
  
      “I see a lot of steam,” I commented.  
  
      “That’s from the dry dyes,” she replied. “It can get very hot down there, but we keep vents open on the ceiling and industrial fans are on to circulate the air.”  
  
      “Can we go down and get a closer look?” I asked. Susan assented and led me onto the actual production floor. The heat was astounding and the air was thick with humidity and sweat. We walked along the narrow rows between what Steve had called ‘the tanks’. As we passed sweating body after sweating body, I wanted to touch each one’s face or neck, knowing I might cool them off.  
  
      “Mr. Meder mentioned the hose nozzles were faulty,” I said, needing to shout over the din. Susan nodded.  
  
      “Honestly, the equipment is dangerous,” she called back. “Those hoses are constantly spraying the girls.” Just then, a piece of metal went flying out of one of the stations as someone screamed. The sound of spraying water continued.  
  
      “Aeva!” A woman yelled, darting into the tank the metal piece had come from. She pulled a younger, smaller woman into the aisle with her. A man in coveralls ran over to them, shouting into a walkie talkie.  
  
      “Sam, shut down two twenty three! Shut down two twenty three!” He yelled, and the sound of water stopped. As I caught sight of his face, I heard his story. His name was Mike and his wife actually worked one of these tanks.  
  
      “What happened?” he asked the women, who were facing away from Susan and I.  
  
      “The nozzle broke right off her hose,” the larger woman said. She had a Mexican accent.  
  
      “Did either of you get sprayed?” Mike asked, squatting down to get a better look at them.  
  
      “Just my arm,” I heard the larger one say and she stuck out her wrist at Mike. There was a bright red streak across her left forearm. “But Aeva’s pretty bad. It got her legs and her back.” The woman pulled up the smaller girl’s shirt revealing a massive red streak from her shoulder to her hip. She reeked of burning flesh. “I think she touched the dry dye when she ducked, too,” the large woman continued. “She’s got a burn on her arm that’s bleedin’.” I held my breath.  
  
      “Yeah, Sam, we had a hose break,” Mike said into the walkie talkie. “Two got hit. One’s just on her arm; should be fine. The other got some pretty bad sprays to the back and legs and got a burn on her arm. Let’s get an ambulance down here, send ‘em both in to be safe, and hurry up; the burnt one don’t look too good. Think she’s losing consciousness.”  
  
      “Hang in there, Aeva, baby,” the larger woman cooed, fanning the little one’s face. “It’s okay, honey. She’s so hot, Mike, we gotta cool her down.” I walked over to them.  
  
      “I have cold hands,” I offered, getting their attention. The larger woman was Luzbel Garcia and her history included a lot of failed attempts at writing novels. She grabbed my hand in one of hers to test it and then jerked it toward Aeva. I barely felt any pressure, but I’d spent enough time handling delicate people to understand what humans touches meant, so I let her lead my hand down to Aeva’s face. When I saw it, I was stunned.  
  
      _Aeva Sanchez. Born June 5, 1982. Nineteen years old. One of four children. Daughter of Oaxacan immigrants, Jaime and Maria. Takes annual father-daughter camping trips. Artist. Fell in love with Jason Michaels. Was engaged to be married. Got pregnant a month before the wedding. He disappeared. Hasn’t seen fiancée or family in two months. Seven months away from due date._  
  
      She’d been abandoned and, I could tell, had ended up working here for lack of money. And through all her tragedy, even through the heat of the room and her awful burns, she was lovely. Her dark hair was tied back in a purple bandanna, but wisps stuck to her shining face and twirled down her neck. Her skin was clear and caramel colored with a red heat flush underneath. Her full mouth was limp and her big eyes were almost shut. The second I touched her though, they flew open revealing eyes so dark, they were almost black. I could see my blond hair and pale face reflected in them and she started to cry.  
  
      “I know it hurts, I know,” Luzbel cooed, moving my hand around like a sponge. I took my other hand and pressed it to Aeva’s back and shoulders, careful not to touch her burn. She closed her eyes and continued to sob, but she had a small smile on her face. I was curious as to what could make her smile at a time like this.  
  
      After a minute or two of all of us trying to cool her off, a man with a gurney arrived and I helped lift Aeva onto it. She was light, and not just for me; she was pretty small as far as humans went.  
  
      As I watched her get wheeled away, I had an intense urge to follow. I needed to be sure she was alright, but I wanted more than to see her get better. I wanted to get her out of this factory for good; I wanted to take her back to her family; I wanted to hunt down her fiancé. I wanted to take care of her and make sure she never cried again because my heart had never been wrenched so violently as when her tears hit my skin and I had no idea why.  
  



	3. Cooled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva has a guardian angel and a hallucination.

###  _Aeva_

      I was in the hospital for two days and I couldn’t go to work for three days after that. Luckily, we had worker’s comp and I still got the week’s pay. But, all the while I was in the hospital, I just kept thinking about his face.  
  
      When I first saw him, I’d thought he was an angel. He’d had curls so blond they were almost white and, with the light behind him, they seemed to glow like a halo. His face was perfect and pale, like it had been carved from marble. I imagined holding the chisel and breaking the stone away to make that face. And then there were his eyes: they were round and bright gold. He was beautiful.  
  
      I saw him and I thought, _This is it, here’s the angel come to take me away. I’ve died and here he is._ And then I realized that everything except a patch of skin on my cheek was still burning hot and my back and legs were on fire. I started to cry from the pain and I noticed that the lights making the golden boy’s halo glow were actually the fluorescents overhead. I was on the floor outside my work station.  
  
      The cold thing against my face had moved, dabbing my forehead and neck. Luzbel was holding it and it looked like…a hand? It was his hand, the angel’s. Suddenly my shoulder was cold too and I could feel the shape of his fingers on my back. I wasn’t dead; I was in intense pain and everyone was shouting, but I wasn’t dead. I was so relieved that I just shut my eyes and reveled in the pain which, better than any other sensation can, lets us know we’re alive.  
  
      When I got to the hospital, I desperately wanted to tell the doctors to check on the baby; I’d thought about it and I’d moved pretty fast. That could dislodge a placenta, right? The doctors and nurses whirled around me, blurring until all I saw was a flurry of gloved hands. I tried to talk, but I couldn’t get the words out; I was so tired.  
  
      “Hey, hey, check her belly!” I heard Luzbel call as she was led in another direction. “That girl’s pregnant! You gotta check her over.”  
  
      _Oh, thank god for you Luzbel,_ I thought as I was wheeled away on my gurney. Before I knew it, blissfully cool gel was squirted on to my stomach and I got an ultrasound. I wanted to look at the screen, I wanted to see my baby, but I was exhausted. My eye lashes must have turned to lead with the way that they pulled my eyes closed. I fought to stay awake and to comprehend what the doctors were saying.  
  
      “She’s so small,” I heard one nurse mutter. “You don’t think she’s lost it, do you? I mean, before now?”  
  
      “She isn’t out, you know,” a male voice said, sounding rather offended. “And I just don’t think she’s very far along is all. I mean, look, right there. That’s a text book embryo; I’d say she’s two months along, if that. Everything looks fine. Hear that?” he asked, his voice much closer now. “Your baby’s fine, Aeva.”  
  
      _Thank you, God._  
  
      “Doctor! Doctor, she’s losing consciousness!”  
  
      When I opened my eyes again, I was in the burn unit in the hospital. I was in a room with two other patients and our heart rate monitors beat in different rhythms to form a macabre kind of tune. The room was dark and the little patch of sky outside the window was purple. Everything was quiet and perfectly still. I desperately wanted someone with me, a familiar face; my mother, perhaps. I needed someone to comfort me. I wanted to be folded up in one of my brother’s bear hugs, I wanted my father to kiss my forehead, I wanted my big sister to sit beside me and hold my hand, I wanted my little sister to tell me I was still her role model. But there was a dull ache in my chest telling me that, for some reason, the most comforting sight I could ever see would be his face: the golden boy’s.  
  
      But what could he do for me? He was just some stranger. Why did I want to see him again? I suppose he was very good looking; beyond it in fact. I’d never seen anyone as perfect as him. Who wouldn’t want to see that again? I laughed at my own shallowness and hit the buzzer on my bed that called the nurse. A moment later, a squat woman with frizzy hair came scurrying into the room.  
  
      “You’re up,’” she said with a smile, smoothing out my sheets. “Good, good; gave us a little scare, though. What did you need?”  
  
      “Paper, please,” I said, sitting up a little. “And a pen, if I’m allowed.”  
  
      “You ought to go back to sleep,” she said, giving me a stern look. “You’ve been through quite a bit today and your body needs rest. We’ll worry about paper and pens in the morning.” I sighed, not wanting to argue, and slid back down into the sheets.  
  
      When I woke up again the room was bright and sunny and I saw a little stack of paper and a blue ball point sitting on a table at my bedside. I grinned, mentally thanked the night nurse, and pulled them towards me. I had a vague idea in my head, a rough shape. I took up the pen and let it fly over the paper. My factory worn hands rejoiced at the change in action my drawing provided. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure why I didn’t draw more often.  
  
      I’d always loved to draw; I’d loved to do anything artistic really. Charcoal, pastels, painting, carving, sculpting; I’d even had a brief fling with pottery. Art was the one thing that I controlled; I could make it as challenging or as easy as I pleased.  
  
      Papá was the one that started me drawing. We were on one of our camping trips and he was trying to fish, but I was pestering him because I was bored. He threw me a notepad and a pencil and said draw something. I’d been drawing ever since. It was when this thought of home crossed my mind that I realized what I had been drawing. It was a big eagle hugging a little duck; one of the stories that Papá used to tell. I smiled at the page and carefully detailed each feather of the birds, making it as realistic as it could be in blue ink. When I was finished, I just stared at the page, imagining that I was the duck and the eagle was my father. I would have given anything for a hug from him, but I couldn’t have that. I was a disgrace; he wouldn’t want to see me.  
  
      After my second day at the factory I’d called home and told them about Jason leaving me. All it took was the note of disappointment in my mother’s voice to know that I was in the dog house. Why would she want me around? I’d just be another daughter with a bastard child, begging for money. I couldn’t face my family, I wouldn’t embarrass them like that. I wiped the biting tears from my eyes and set the picture back on the table. After a quiet moment, a nurse and my doctor came in to check on me.  
  
      “Ah, good morning, Aeva,” the doctor said through his beard. “You’re looking much better and fortunately for you, the scalds aren’t all that bad. They should heal quickly and leave little, if any, scarring. Your arm, on the other hand, well, you burnt the skin right off. It isn’t large enough to need a graft though, so that’s good. It should heal well, but there will be a scar.”  
  
      “I’d rather have a scar than be dead,” I said, smiling at him. “I know how to count my blessings, doctor.”  
  
      “Good, good,” he laughed, checking my chart while the nurse fussed with my IV. “I was wondering,” he said, glancing back up at me, “if you are aware that you are pregnant?”  
  
      “Yes,” I said, nodding. “I know. I’m just about two months in.”  
  
      “Good, good,” the doctor repeated, nodding and setting down the chart. “You went unconscious shortly after hearing about your child, and there was some debate as to whether you fainted from shock or pain.”  
  
      “It was pain,” I assured him. “And gratitude I suppose. I was so worried about the baby; I thought I might have hurt it. I mean, I did run.”  
  
      “Running isn’t too much of an issue until the second trimester,” the doctor assured me, patting my leg. “But let’s not try for a repeat performance.” I smiled and then the doctor and nurse set about changing my bandages. When they left, I settled in for a nap.  
  
      “Are you okay, honey?” A very familiar voice asked. I opened my eyes to see Henrietta and Luzbel standing by my bed. It was after five o’clock.  
  
      “I’m fine,” I mumbled, sitting up. “Baby’s all good too.”  
  
      “Oh, that’s so good to hear,” Luzbel sighed, hugging me to her. “Baby girl, I was so worried about you.”  
  
      “I’m fine, really,” I laughed. “The doctor said everything will heal; I’ll be back at work in no time.”  
  
      “I just got so worried, you were boiling hot,” Luzbel said seriously, pulling away. “If that guy weren’t there to cool you off, I think you would have cooked your own insides.”  
  
      “Who _was_ that anyway?” I asked, suddenly very curious. “He was cute.”  
  
      “Ay, chica, he was beautiful,” she laughed. Henrietta rolled her eyes at us.  
  
      “If you two are just going to rant about some boy, I’m going home.”  
  
      “Oh, but Henri,” I pouted. “He could be the one that whisks me away!”  
  
      “Yeah, he’ll whisk you alright,” she laughed. “Better smack you up side the head once too; knock some sense into you.”  
  
      “I’ll let him know if I ever see him again,” I said. She laughed and after a little while longer, both she and Luzbel had to go home. I settled in to sleep again, and that was pretty much how I spent the next day in the hospital as well. I just slept and the following evening, I was released and Henrietta and Luzbel took me home.  
  
      “I never thought I’d be glad to come back to this place,” I laughed as I shuffled through the door. My thighs were really stiff, so walking was hard.  
  
      “Could be worse,” Luzbel said, looking around. “At least your window don’t face the factory.”  
  
      “Aw, yours does?” I said, lowering myself into a chair. “I’ll have to fix that, I’ll paint a sunset on your window.”  
  
      “Yeah, and then I’d get kicked out for defacing company property,” she laughed. “Just go to sleep, girl. It’s back to work in two days, ready or not. Get some rest while you still can.” I groaned and they laughed as they went out the door. I sat in the chair, staring out my little kitchen window at the gloomy grey sky. I was really getting sick of grey. I was also getting sick of just sitting around; my body was itching to do something.  
  
      I hoisted myself up and shambled to my closet to find something new to wear; my jeans were killing my legs. I settled on some sweatpants and a tank top, which wouldn’t press on my bandages, and then threw on some sneakers and a coat and I headed out the door. My legs were very tight and achy, but as I walked, they loosened up and after two blocks, I hardly felt any pain at all. I was in the mood for a story and I thought I might try and find a public library. As childish as it sounds, I really wanted a kids book; one of the old ones where the illustrations were more than just basic shapes and bright colors. I always loved how real those looked, like the old Alice in Wonderland and the original Little Mermaid. As I walked, I decided I wanted something fanciful, like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys.  
  
      Once, when I was little, my brother wrote a story; he’d always had a way with words, but he never pursued it. But he wrote that story and as he read it to me, I could see everything he described, clear as day, right in my head. I stayed up all night drawing it out for him. We spent the next day copying the words onto the pages and then we gave it to our mother for her birthday. She cried about how beautiful it was and how much she loved it. I didn’t even know what the story was about anymore, but I remembered her crying.  
  
      I was still trying to remember that story when, all of a sudden, a man came shooting out of an alley way. I didn’t have enough time to react and he ran right into me.  
  
      His thighs hit mine, right on the burns, and the force of the collision sent me flying back ward into a mail box. I hit my bandage right on the edge of the box, sending a jolt of pain through my back that was so intense, I actually crumpled under it. The man, obviously worried, tried to help by stopping my fall and grabbed my arm. Of all the places he could have grabbed, he gripped right on top of the awful burn on my forearm and I screamed in agony. It hurt so bad I was dizzy; I actually saw spots.  
  
      “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” The man yelped, dropping my arm. I was falling back ward again, but I was stopped by two iron bars. I thought it was a bike rack or something, but then the bars shifted and I was off the ground and cradled next to someone’s chest.  
  
      “It’s alright, I’ve got her,” said the person holding me. “You’re fine, you didn’t mean to.”  
  
      “What’s wrong with her?” Asked the man who’d knocked into me.  
  
      “She’s got a bad gash on that arm,” the iron person replied. “I think you must have grabbed it. Go on, I’ll take care of her.” I heard the other man walk away and as I lifted my eyes to look at who was carrying me, everything just went dark.  
  
      When I woke up again, I was being carried through my living room and into my little bedroom.  
  
      “How did you know?” I began, still not fully conscious.  
  
      “Shh,” a voice hushed in my ear. “Just go to sleep. You shouldn’t have been out anyways.” I didn’t argue, I was still very tired, and the intensity of the pain had sapped what little energy I had left. I was fairly certain I was making it up anyways and that I was actually just lying on the sidewalk somewhere. I just let myself get settled into my bed.  
  
      I watched through half closed eyes as a very tall shape puttered around my room. It came close and took my coat off and then left the room. It reappeared a second later with an armful of blankets. It threw three quilts over me and I tried to tell it to take them off. I would get way too hot.  
  
      “No,” I moaned. “Ung.” I rolled over, trying to squirm out from under them. Suddenly, my forehead was very cold and I thought I’d been given an ice pack, but the cold thing moved to my cheek and I saw it was a hand. I glanced up and was shocked to see none other than the golden boy hovering over me. He was crouched down by my bed petting my face, his honey eyes bleeding concern.  
  
      “You’re so warm,” he whispered.  
  
      I wanted to tell him I was always warm; that was the way I was. All my life, I’d always been too warm. I couldn’t even sleep with blankets on or I’d sweat and that’s why the quilts were roasting me. He took his hand off of my face and set it against my chest and then moved down my arms and back.  
  
      “Oh my god, you’re burning up,” he hissed, sounding a little panicked. He stepped back and thought for a moment and then set his jaw, having decided something. He leaned down and tucked the quilts tight around me and then slid out of the sweater he was wearing, revealing a gloriously sculpted and pale stomach and chest. He crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around me.  
  
      I thought it would only make me warmer, but after a few minutes, I could feel a cool sensation creeping through the blankets. All the while, he stroked my face and neck, trying to cool me down. I breathed deeply, feeling oddly relaxed. He smelled wonderful, like cinnamon and sugar. Best hallucination ever.  
  
      “Damn,” he grunted, sitting up. “I hate to do this to you but you’re on fire.” I felt the blankets get pulled away from my back and all of a sudden, an ice sheet was pressed to my body. It was amazing; the cold eased the pain in my burn and gave me goosebumps. I’d always loved winter, and this felt like being hugged by a snow drift. I shifted around, so that the man and I were chest to chest, and I pressed my thighs against him and set my stinging forearm against his shoulder. Almost instantly, the pain subsided and I was able to fall asleep.  
  
      I found myself in a scene very much like the one I had just left, only the golden boy and I were lying in an actual snow drift. In this new hallucination, he was nuzzling me and saying very sweet things. I was just eating it up and I got especially excited when he leaned in to kiss me. He was maybe an inch from my face when he pulled away, grinning. I grinned back and grabbed his chin, intending to remind him just what we were there for.  
  



	4. Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan discovers he can't quite leave Aeva alone.

###  _Nathan_

      After seeing her taken away, sobbing and burnt, I couldn’t get Aeva Sanchez out of my head. I tried to take my mind off her; as soon as she was gone I left the factory and went out in search of an apartment. I stayed up all night furnishing it and adding the little touches of humanity that would make it believable. I was finished before midnight, so I waited until morning when the stores opened and bought an entirely new wardrobe, since I’d only brought what clothes would fit in my back pack. It only took a few hours. Then I sat around, more restless than I’d ever been. I wanted to leave and get out in the city, but there was no where I wanted to go; I wanted to occupy my hands with something, but I had nothing that I wanted to do. I just thrashed around my apartment all day and the night after that. The next morning, when I absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, I decided to go back by the factory; it was the only place I knew.  
  
      I wandered around, memorizing streets and reading faces. The stories I heard made the day go faster and soon, dusk was nearing and I decided I had better go home. As I went, I passed three women walking into an apartment building. It was Aeva and two women from the factory: Luzbel and a woman I’d never seen. A quick glance at her face told me she was Henrietta Charles, mother of four. The two women helped Aeva into the building and I was burning with curiosity. I wanted to go up to them, ask them if she was alright. Instead, I just fussed around outside the building, trying in vain to pick out the sounds of Aeva moving around from the noise of all the other women in their apartments.  
  
      What a maddening thing to attempt. I could hear women laughing and talking to children; the voices were the easiest thing to hear, but I had never heard Aeva’s voice before. I had no idea what I should be listening for. Would it be high and girly? Would it be coarse? How would she speak, what kind of things should I be listening for? Jokes, sob stories, complaints, prayers? Did she even speak English? And of all the feet moving around, how could I pick hers out? They should be light steps, because she’s small; but they could be heavy, because she’s injured. And where was her apartment? Which direction should I focus on?  
  
      About two hours later, when I had just about given up and was starting to walk away, who should come out of the building but Aeva? She came down the steps and started walking in the opposite direction. I made a u-turn and, measuring my steps carefully, walked along behind her. I told myself I wasn’t stalking her; I had every intention of catching up to her and starting a conversation. I just needed to build up the courage. That’s how I rationalized it at least.  
  
      I’d never been nervous around humans before, but I dreaded the thought of saying something stupid in front of Aeva. In the meantime, I memorized her sounds. She had a light step, with a bit of a scuff, because she dragged her feet. Her position told me this walking style was unnatural; she was trying not to tighten the fabric of her sweat pants across her thighs. While she walked, she cocked her head and made a throaty, thoughtful sort of noise. She was thinking about something.  
  
      When I was still a few yards behind her, I heard a noise in the alley to the left and a man came running out. He was going to smack right into her, but I couldn’t pull her out of the way; not if I wanted to avoid drawing attention to myself. Instead, I dashed at a believable pace up to where they collided and as Aeva fell, I scooped her up.  
  
      “It’s alright, I’ve got her,” I told the man, who had his hands over his mouth in horror. “You’re fine, you didn’t mean to.”  
  
      “What’s wrong with her?” He asked. His story flashed through; Harvey Michaels, journalist. I didn’t know exactly what to tell him. I’d seen the whole thing in painful detail; I’d seen him manage to hurt each one of Aeva’s burns; he even grabbed right onto the one on her arm.  
  
      “She’s got a bad gash on that arm,” I said, shifting her slightly. “I think you must have grabbed it. Go on, I’ll take care of her.” Harvey nodded and continued on his way. Aeva went limp in my arms, so I cradled her into my chest and followed her scent back to her apartment. Fourth floor, second hallway, third from the end. Luckily, she hadn’t locked the door, so I was able to carry her inside. As we went through her living room, she came to again.  
  
      “How did you know?” she asked.  
  
      “Shh,” I cooed. “Just go to sleep. You shouldn’t have been out anyways.” That was very true. If one knock to her bad arm made her black out, she should have stayed home. But all the same, I wanted her to argue with me. She had a smooth sort of voice I hadn’t expected; it was low and even and I wanted to hear it again, but she seemed too exhausted to fight back and just rested her head on my shoulder. I took her into her room and set her down on the bed. There were no covers, just a sheet, so I slid her coat off of her and went to get blankets from the linen closet I’d seen on the way in. I was back in her room with quilts in half a second, but as I threw them over her, she started to squirm around, trying to get out.  
  
      “No,” she protested. “Ung,” and she rolled over on her side. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I checked her forehead for a fever. Her skin smoldered against mine; it was much, much too hot for a human.  
  
      “You’re so warm,” I whispered, checking the rest of her. It wasn’t just her forehead that was hot; her entire body was boiling.  
  
      “Oh my god, you’re burning up!” I stepped back, trying to think of anything that might cool her down. Ice would work, but I didn’t have time for that. The fastest way to bring her temperature down would just be to grab her. I didn’t want her to freeze to death though, so I tucked the blankets in around her before I took off my shirt and laid down next to her. I held her against me, praying that her strange fever would break, but even after five minutes it hadn’t gone down.  
  
      “Damn. I hate to do this to you,” I said, peeling the blankets off of her, “but you’re on fire.” I slid under the covers, pressed right up against her and she actually pressed back. After a moment or two, she turned around. I felt her push her legs against me, cooling the scalds there, and she set her injured arm on my shoulder. I rubbed the burn on her back, trying to soothe it and she fell asleep surprisingly fast. Once she was thoroughly out, I stopped rubbing her back and shifted us a little so that I was under her.  
  
      I wanted her to cool down, but I needed the heat radiating off of her to go somewhere else. It was honestly painful to hold her; she burned me when I touched her. As she began to cool though, the heat became less like hot coals and more like bathwater that’s a little too warm. It turned into the kind of heat with a painful edge, but that you can’t force yourself to give up; you can’t get out of the bath. Not only was the heat astounding, but her smell was simply intoxicating. Her blood smelled like oranges, chocolate, and peppers all at once. It was truly exquisite and I allowed myself to breathe deeply, secure in the fact that nothing in this world could make me kill a human. After perhaps two hours like that, she stirred slightly and turned her head against my chest.  
  
      My skin had no give; she would break her nose if she just turned her head like that. I shifted her gently, setting her on the bed, and I curled around her side; my body was much longer than hers. She smiled in her sleep and came closer. Her heart rate and breathing increased as she woke up, but her eyes still seemed dreamy when she opened them: she wasn’t fully awake. She stared at my face and caught me off guard when she grabbed onto my chin and pulled herself up, placing one kiss on the corner of my mouth.  
  
      “Oh,” I said, not sure what to do. She jumped a little and jerked back, releasing my face. Then she screamed and jettisoned herself backwards out of the bed.  
  
      “Whatthefuckareyoudoinginmybed?” She demanded.  
  
      “I’m sorry?” I said, sitting up.  
  
      “What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” She asked more slowly this time, getting shakily to her feet.  
  
      “You let me,” I said, now very confused. “I carried you all the way here, I tucked you into bed and then I got in with you because you had a fever. You let me, you snuggled up to me and everything. I thought it was okay.”  
  
      “I thought I was hallucinating!” She half laughed, half shrieked.  
  
      “Why would you think that?”  
  
      “Why would I think that?” She mimicked. “Oh, I don’t know. After all, it’s totally normal for random girls in the shit end of the city to be carried home by strangers.”  
  
      “You’re not random,” I said. “I met you before, when you got hurt in the factory.”  
  
      “Fine then, remove random from that sentence,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But what the fuck were you doing back here then? You’re wearing slacks and that is a sweater on the floor. You are not a south side man.”  
  
      “I was coming to see you,” I said, telling at least a half truth. “I wanted to check up on you. It took me ages to find out where you lived.”  
  
      “So that’s how you knew which apartment was mine,” she said, calming down a little.  
  
      “Yes,” I lied.  
  
      “And that’s why you were there in the first place.”  
  
      “Yes.”  
  
      “And I’ve just been yelling at you like a crazy person for no reason.”  
  
      “Yes,” I said with a smile. She was funny. After a moment, she cocked her head at me.  
  
      “You are not a hallucination?”  
  
      “No.”  
  
      “Okay,” she said, nodding. “So that means I actually did just kiss your face.”  
  
      “Yes, you did,” I grinned.  
  
      “Well that’s good,” she said awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It was the tail end of a dream and to be fair, in the dream you were doing it too, which is weird to say to you. I’m making things worse. Oh my god, sorry.”  
  
      “It’s alright,” I laughed. “It just surprised me is all.”  
  
      “Yeah,” she said, fixing her hair embarrassedly. “Surprised me too.” I couldn’t help but notice how marked her palms were.  
  
      “What happened to your hands?” I asked. She raised her eyebrows and put her hands out in front of herself.  
  
      “What do you mean? They look fine,” she said, flipping them over to look at her palms. That’s when I got up and took her hands in mine, running my thumb over her fingers.  
  
      “There are all these rough patches and divots,” I murmured. “It’s like you cut yourself and did compulsive yard work at the same time.” She laughed and I glanced up, grinning. His smile was exceptionally straight and white.  
  
      “Well, there’s the factory job,” she explained. “I got the calluses from that, but the cuts and stuff are from all the arty things I used to do. Sometimes, I’d nick myself with the razor or the scissors or the chisel or whatever I was working with. It just happens.”  
  
      “Oh,” I mused, running my hands over hers again. My hands were so much bigger than hers, looked so much stronger, but I could actually see the work her hands had done.  
  
      “Um, why are your hands so smooth?” She asked, taking hers away from me and trying to hide them in the sheets as she sat back on the bed.  
  
      “I don’t do anything,” I replied, making her roll her eyes.  
  
      “You have to do something,” she sighed. “Everyone does something. What’s your something?”  
  
      “Hmm,” I thought. “I take care of old people.” She shook her head and laughed at me, turning to look out the window.  
  
      “What?” I asked. She just shook her head again.  
  
      “What’s your name? Like, full name?” She prompted, after a moment. That surprised me a little and I glanced out of the corner of my eye.  
  
      “I go by Nathan,” I said. “Full name Nataniel Björn Evanov-Wulff. Why did you want the whole thing?”  
  
      “I just like long names,” she replied, “I was hoping you had one, and you did not disappoint. I have one too; I’m Aeva Maria Luisa Ramón Sanchez.” I already knew that, why would she introduce…? Oh, right. She didn’t know I knew.  
  
      “Um, thanks for the thing at the factory. And for earlier,” she muttered after a long moment. “I probably would have stayed passed out on the street if you hadn’t been there.”  
  
      “You’re welcome,” I replied, turning to face her again. “But I don’t see what you were doing out by yourself anyways. Or why you’re living alone.”  
  
      “Oh, my family doesn’t want me right now,” she sighed. What? They don’t want her. Families don’t get to pick their members; they just have to take what they get and care for them.  
  
      Suddenly her hand was at my forehead, stroking the worry lines there with her thumb. I relaxed and allowed her to smooth my skin. Once the creases were gone, she rested her hand against my cheek.  
  
      “What about your family?” She asked. I smiled and turned my head, so her palm was on the back of my neck. What about my family? The one that hasn’t existed in over 200 years? Or the man that took me in, originally intending to kill me? Hmm, what to say…  
  
      “It’s a long story,” I replied. “Even after all these years, it’s hard to tell it.”  
  
      “Oh,” she whispered. I peeked back up at her and smiled again.  
  
      “I’m sorry,” I sighed, pulling my head away. “Just what you want to hear, right? A sob story from some stranger. Look, I have to go.”  
  
      I got out of the bed and picked my shirt up off the floor. I walked out of the bedroom and it wasn’t until I had opened the front door that I heard her bare feet padding after me. I turned back and she was standing in the door to her room, just looking at me with those black doe’s eyes.  
  
      “Stay.”  
  
      It wasn’t a question, but not necessarily a command either. I knew I should have left when she said it; should have gone back to _my_ apartment, but I closed the door instead. I went slowly back towards her, setting my shirt on a chair as I passed. When I was almost there, she held up a finger and shut the door to her bedroom. I heard her feet move, the opening of a closet, and the brush of fabric shifting. I half thought she’d come out in lingerie; women had made a habit of trying to seduce me. They never knew how dangerous it was—or how futile—but, to my great relief, when she came out she was in a big tee shirt and basketball shorts with her hair back in a bun and a soft elastic head band on. She looked ready for bed.  
  
      She put out her hand and I took it, almost involuntarily. At the same time though, I wanted to go to her. It was one of those rare occurrences where what we must do and what we want to do align into the same thing.  
  
      When I took her hand, her skin smoldered against mine. All humans had warm skin, but hers was on fire all the time. It was also rough, very rough. I felt all of her calluses and scars as she led me back into her tiny bedroom. She slid into the little full bed first and then patted the spot next to her. I took the place dutifully and she settled in against me. Every inch of her was burning.  
  
      I laid my arm across the pillow and she came closer, nestling her head into the cradle of my shoulder.  
  
      “You’re very warm,” I whispered.  
  
      “You’re freezing,” she laughed quietly.  
  
      “Are you always this warm?”  
  
      “Yes, are you always this cold?”  
  
      “Yes. Do you often let strangers sleep over?”  
  
      “No,” she laughed. “I just like having you around. You can go if you want.”  
  
      I smiled into the dark room and there we stayed. Aeva was asleep in a few minutes and I could have left then, but I stayed. I listened to her breathing and let her skin burn me as she slept. I looked down at my side and saw her nuzzling in and, as she moved her head to my chest, that bathwater syndrome took over again. It would have been a crime to just give this up.  
  
      Besides, I could handle her; I knew I could. I’d been taking care of humans—the old ones, frail as they come—for years. True, I’d never slept in the same bed as them, but I could handle myself for now.  
  
      I knew it was my place to play doubtful, to weigh the what-ifs too heavily, but what was wrong with having a little faith in myself? I’d only be more likely to hurt her if every time I saw her, I thought, _don’t kill her in every way I’m about to list right now_ …  
  
      Why not look at her and think: _it’s alright; just be gentle._ Did I need to behave as if I were a monster with no self-control when I wasn’t? Being with her might be difficult for me, but not impossible, so why not give it a try? I decided then to stay. I would stay until she woke up and I would take her orders; if she said leave, I’d leave, but if she said stay, I would gladly do so. _And,_ I counseled myself, _this is probably just a onetime thing. There’s no use sitting and thinking about how hard it could be in the future. It’s probably only going to be just this one time._  
  
      Aeva slept on through the night, hardly stirring. I noticed that her body cooled very slowly and, by keeping the blankets over the both of us, I could keep her both from overheating and from freezing. It made me feel strangely human to think about the picture the two of us made; just a man and a woman, curled up in bed. I smiled at the thought and set about occupying myself because it was obvious I’d be here all night. I decided to count her heart beats, as they were steady and easy to hear.  
  
      As I counted, I noticed a quieter, faster thrumming behind that of her heart. I listened very closely, urging the sound to grow louder. At first I thought I’d imagined it, but just as constantly as Aeva’s heart thumped: Da-dum…da-dum…da-dum…da-dum, the noise was right with it: dum-dum-dum-dum-dum. What was that? It was fast, like a rabbit’s pulse… and then it hit me.  
  
      Oh. That’s what it was.  
  
      In the stillness, with Aeva being as relaxed as she was, I was able to hear her child’s heartbeat within her. I wanted to press my ear to her stomach, to listen closer, but I stayed still and just marveled at the sound. There, right beside me, inches from my own body, were the beginnings of a human being. The very idea of it amazed me.  
  
      I puzzled over it: how one cell becomes infant, infant becomes child, child becomes adult, adult gives one cell, and that cell starts it over. All too soon, morning came and I actually jumped when Aeva moved. It was just a twitch of her hand, but I knew that it meant she was waking up. I climbed out of the bed, careful not to disturb her; I left her in her room and busied myself in the kitchen, endeavoring to make her breakfast. One of the skills I had learned working with my old people was how to fry an egg. I decided that eggs and toast would make a good meal for her.  
  
      As I cooked, I could hear her tossing and the occasional moan; she was just about at the end of her sleep cycle. I set the food on a plate and carried it back into the room, along with a fork and a glass of orange juice. As soon as she smelled it, Aeva opened her eyes.  
  
      “You cook?” She asked, sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes.  
  
      “A little,” I laughed, setting the plate on her lap. “I’m better with stew though. Grew up on the stuff.”  
  
      “I am sure your fried eggs are wonderful,” she said slowly, staring them down. “But I don’t really eat eggs. Unless they are my Mamá’s omelets.”  
  
      “Oh,” I said awkwardly. “Well, there’s toast?” She grinned at the plate and took a bite of the bread.  
  
      “And it is excellent,” she said, looking back up at me. “You are an official culinary wizard.” I couldn’t help but laugh. She smiled back and continued on her breakfast while I sat on the floor beside the bed. I shut my eyes and just relaxed, listening to her chew, smelling the scent of her blood mix with the toast and the eggs. All of a sudden, my shoulder was very hot and I looked to see what had happened.  
  
      Aeva was sitting cross-legged on top of the blankets, toast in one hand, the other on my shoulder.  
  
      “You have some serious pale going on,” she murmured. Ah, she was comparing our skin tones. I looked down and I was completely white against the dark caramel color of her hand. “How does one manage to be so pale and so fit?”  
  
      “Work out with the lights off?” I laughed. She smiled and nodded.  
  
      “That would do it,” she agreed. “But why? Do you have body issues?”  
  
      “No,” I snorted, sitting back into a model’s pose.  
  
      “ _Nice,_ Nathan,” she sighed. “Your modesty is astounding. But want to see something grosser than that little display?”  
  
      “You mean grosser than my self-infatuation?” I laughed. She nodded and led me with her to her bathroom. She went to the toilet and sat on the seat.  
  
      “This is a thrilling skill so far,” I teased. She wrinkled her nose at me.  
  
      “No, you jerk,” she mumbled, rolling up her shorts and tugging the corner of one of her bandages. “I have big red scalds.” She peeled back the bandage revealing a slightly pink and tender looking area.  
  
      “Impressive,” I sighed. “Spill tea on your lap?” She shook her head and looked up at me.  
  
      “This was awful yesterday,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows. “It was really red and swollen. I don’t get why it’s suddenly better.” She looked down and pulled the other bandage off as well, revealing a wide pink streak there too. She was baffled, but I knew why they looked better; she’d been pressed against a living ice pack all night. The swelling was bound to have gone down.  
  
      “Is that where the hose got you?” I asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
      “Yeah,” she replied, clearly perplexed. “Got my back too. The doctor said it would take a while for the swelling to go down, but if they’re in the mood to heal fast, who am I to complain? Hey, you mind if I grab a shower?”  
  
      “No, please do,” I groaned. “Your smell is attracting flies.”  
  
      “I smell like roses,” she laughed, pushing at me playfully. I let her push me out of the room and then went and sat on the sofa. Her shower was surprisingly brief, though she did sing one song. The way she sang wouldn’t have been heard by anyone else under normal circumstances, but I heard everything. She came out of the bathroom with one towel wrapped around her and she was mopping at her hair with another.  
  
      “You have a lovely voice,” I said as she walked by. She just threw her hair towel at me and went into her bedroom. She came out a moment later in a tee shirt and yoga pants that hugged her ample hips attractively.  
  
      “Sorry I’m not all dressed up,” she sighed, taking the towel back. “I’m a convalescent, though, so I figured it’s all right.”  
  
      “You look fine,” I said as she tossed the towel into the bathroom. “Besides, why should you dress up for me? I’m an intruder.”  
  
      “I don’t think you count as an intruder if I enjoy your company,” she replied, coming to sit by me. “And you’re welcome to grab a shower as well, if you’d like.”  
  
      “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”  
  
      “What if you start to smell bad?”  
  
      “I never smell bad,” I assured her. “I’ve evolved past that.”  
  
      “You’re pretty funny,” she said rolling her eyes.  
  
      “You’re pretty close,” I commented, looking at the little gap between us.  
  
      “Look, we’ve already gotten to like, second base and this couch is tiny. I’m okay with close if you are.”  
  
      “It’s fine with me,” I laughed, shifting so she was against my side and my arm was on the back of the sofa.  
  
      “This is unbelievably comfortable, you know that, right?” she said, laying her head back on my shoulder. “Especially because you’re like, two degrees right now. Why are you so cold?”  
  
      “I think you’re just too warm,” I replied, trying to stop the conversation’s direction. We did not need to have this discussion. Ever. She laughed and nodded.  
  
      “Yeah,” she agreed. “You’re probably right. Are you up for some daytime soap operas? I’m still working on my last sick-leave day.”  
  
      “I’ve got nothing else to do today,” I said with a shrug. So we settled in and watched ridiculous romances play out on TV. It felt natural, and that was odd. The wording is terrible, but it felt strange to me that it didn’t feel strange. Sitting there with Aeva, groaning at the cheesy lines and laughing at the cliché plot twists, it seemed like we’d known each other for years; like we did this every day. She was completely at ease with my being there; there was no tension in her body at all.  
  
      It was like the instinctive fear of my kind that all humans were built with had no effect on Aeva. She had no problem leaning against me, talking to me, occasionally teasing me; I was just another human to her. After more than two centuries of being clearly separated from the race I had started from, it was wonderful to feel like an equal again. It was starting to seem like maybe I really could stay with Aeva.  
  



	5. Tired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance sure is fun at the beginning.

###  _Aeva_

      I had to be dead; dead or dreaming, because in what reality did things like this happen? And when did they start happening to _me_? I’d never been a lucky person; if there’s a chance that something could go wrong, it always would. I’m the epitome of Murphy’s Law and yet it seemed I’d suddenly been blessed with fantastic good fortune and a gorgeous companion. Well, the companion basically was the good fortune.  
  
     I mean Nathan was perfect; I’d never met anyone like him. He was beautiful, to be sure, but his personality was just…perfect. (If I was going to spend more time with him I really needed to beef up my vocabulary, but there was no other word for him.) He laughed easily and could speak intelligently—he was practically a genius—but he didn’t take himself too seriously. If I did something stupid, like when I sang in the shower and he _heard me_ , he didn’t make a big thing about it; I felt like I could be stupid, and goofy, and loud around him and it wouldn’t change his opinion of me a bit.  
  
     With Jason, I’d always felt like I needed to be what he wanted just for him to have any reason to stick around. I was always so guarded, careful not to show any part of me that he might not like. With Nathan, I couldn’t keep my guard up; nothing about him was judgmental. Anything that I did, he just seemed to take in with this attitude of, _Okay, you be you; I won’t change it._  
  
     His magical ability to get me to be totally honest, not only with him but with myself, was one of the reasons we were in the very weird situation we were in. I mean, yeah we fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, but we had only known each other for a day—and a strange day at that. I blacked out, he carried me home, I fell asleep in his arms, I woke up and gave him a kiss, he slept over, I woke up again and ate half the breakfast he made me, I showed him my burns, he hung out while I showered, and now we were watching soap operas. I should have kicked him out when I woke up this morning; at the very least, I should have made a bigger deal out of the kiss. I should have apologized a lot more, but I couldn’t. Nathan’s honesty-inducingness made it impossible for me actually _be_ sorry.  
  
     I also couldn’t tell him that he should leave; I wanted him to stay too much for that. I’d never felt more right than I did just then, leaning up against Nathan. Everything that we’d done in the past eighteen hours had felt _right_. It seemed completely normal for Nathan to make me breakfast in bed, for me to show him my burns, for us to have teased each other like we had. I couldn’t put my finger on it but there was something so obscenely correct about the whole situation that the oddity of it was cancelled out entirely.  
  
     Nathan stuck around the whole day. After a quick lunch of PB and J (which Nathan opted out of because of some low fat diet he was on) we started playing really stupid games like Would You Rather.  
  
     I had just asked him if he’d rather eat trash or lick a stranger’s foot when there was a knock at the door. “Should I hide?” He asked calmly. He was serious, but it was such a ridiculous thing to ask that I laughed at him.  
  
      “Come in!” I called to the door. Then I whispered to Nathan, “No, you should not hide like we’re some teenage couple whose parents just walked in.” He laughed and rolled his eyes.  
  
      “Baby girl?” Luzbel called as she opened the door. “Henri and I came to see how you’re doing. We just wanted to—oh.” She’d just caught sight of Nathan. “We’re interrupting, sorry.”  
  
      “You’re not interrupting anything,” I laughed, waving them in. “Luzbel, Henri, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is Luzbel and Henrietta.” Nathan smiled and sat up to shake their hands as they approached.  
  
      “Aeva, this is the guy that was at the factory,” Luzbel said, making meaningful eyes at me. “What’s he doing here?”  
  
      “I just came by to check on her,” Nathan replied instantly. Honestly, men can be so dumb sometimes. I just wanted to whisper in his ear that Luzbel didn’t really care why he was here; she wanted to know why I’d let him stay and what we’d been doing.  
  
      “Nathan’s actually an old friend from high school,” I lied, making him glance at me. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him back in the factory. He’s kind of hard to forget, you know?” Luzbel gave me a wink, as if to say, _Just a friend?_  
  
      “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Aeva’s baby, would you?” Henri said, glaring at Nathan. _No, Henri, NO!_ I thought. He’d had no idea, and now she’d ruined it. He’d go running any time now. But Nathan just gave her a huge, heart melting smile.  
  
      “I know!” He laughed. “It’s so weird to think the little freshman from yearbook club is having a baby already!” I shoved his head.  
  
      “So, what are you doing in New York, New York, Nathan?” Luzbel pressed, sitting on the couch by him. Henri whapped my arm so I’d move out of the way and let her sit in the chair I’d been blocking.  
  
      “I came here for school,” Nathan replied. “I was doing a human interest piece on working conditions in the factory the other day.”  
  
      “Oh, human interest,” Luzbel gushed, leaning forward flirtatiously. “So you’re a people person then? Me too.”  
  
      “Oh, ah,” Nathan said awkwardly. “It’s you know, an assignment…” I just laughed at him.  
  
      “Ladies, as much as I love to see him squirm, can we finish this another day? He’s got to get going soon anyways.”  
  
      “’Course, baby,” Henrietta said, standing up and pulling Luzbel with her. “We’ll just get out of your hair.”  
  
      “Thank you for checking in though,” I said as I took them to the door. When they were in the hallway, I leaned in close with a huge smile. Luzbel grinned right back.  
  
      “He is friggin gorgeous, baby,” she whispered. “I swear, you have all the luck.”  
  
      “Yeah, getting knocked up and then boiled alive; I must have a four leaf clover hiding somewhere around here,” I said with an eye roll. She laughed.  
  
      “If that’s how you get a guy like him to show up at your door, sign me up!”  
  
      “Get out of here, Luz,” I groaned, shoving her playfully. She kissed my cheek and went away smiling.  
  
      “He’s gonna be the one,” Henrietta said firmly. “He’s gonna get you outta here.”  
  
      “Maybe,” I replied, giving her a little hug and sending her off. Was it wrong that I hoped she was right? When I got back to the living room, Nathan was on his feet.  
  
      “Was that my cue to go?” He asked. “ _He’s got to get going.”_  
  
      “Oh, no,” I replied quickly. “Well, I mean, unless you do. I guess I just figured you must have something better to do than to hang around with me.” He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned.  
  
      “I honestly can’t think of anything better,” he laughed. “I kind of like hanging out with you anyway; we should do this tomorrow too.” Did he just kind of ask me out?  
  
      “I would, but, I can’t. I’m sorry,” I said, kicking myself all the while. “I’ve got to be back at work by nine tomorrow morning.” He had a very confused face on and he was looking at the carpet. I thought I might have offended him and I was dying to know what he was thinking. After a long while, he finally spoke again.  
  
      “Aeva, do you…gah,” he sighed, looking up at me. “Do you _want_ to…hang out again? Did you like today?”  
  
      “I loved today,” I said, a little surprised. “And, yeah. I _really_ would like to hang out again.” He looked at the carpet again, but nodded.  
  
      “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.” Then he smiled at me again. “Why don’t I stick around then?” He asked. “Or we could go somewhere else to do something. I know we can’t do this tomorrow, but there’s still a lot left to today.”  
  
      “Yeah,” I agreed, almost without thinking. “Yeah, let’s do something. What were you thinking? A movie?”  
  
      “I was thinking a walk,” he said quietly. “But, we could see a movie…” Suddenly, a walk sounded really good.  
  
      “Let’s walk,” I said, pulling on some sneakers. “Let’s walk for days.”  
  
      “I was thinking an hour or two tops, but if you’ve got the stamina,” he laughed. I was ready in a minute or so and we went out to the street. The sky was just starting to dim, but there was still plenty of daylight to burn and I intended to use all of it.  
  
     As we walked, Nathan didn’t touch me, but he stayed very close. We didn’t talk for a long while, not until we were out of my part of the city, and even then it was only the occasional, odd word. I didn’t mind the silence, but I was worried that Nathan did; I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t interested in him anymore. I was worrying a lot about what to say and I could feel my forehead tensing. Soon the tension went down my neck and to my shoulders. The tightness in my shoulders made the burn there sting and I flinched. Suddenly, Nathan’s hand was on my back.  
  
      “Are you alright?” He asked, rubbing my sore spot gently. His cold hand was working wonders on it.  
  
      “It just hurts a little,” I sighed. He frowned a bit and pulled me into his side, draping his arm around me.  
  
      “I’m sorry,” He replied. “I really hope it heals quickly.” His arm crossed right over the burn and started to cool it back down.  
  
      “I’m sorry I’m not really…talking…anymore,” I muttered. He just laughed.  
  
      “You don’t have to talk,” he said, looking down at me. “I like you just as much when you’re quiet as when you’re talking. Both suit me fine.”  
  
      “Well, I don’t mind the silence either,” I admitted. “But I guess, if we’re not going to hang out tomorrow, I’d rather spend some time talking about _something_.”  
  
      “Well, fine,” he laughed. “What should we talk about? I’m open to just about any subject.”  
  
      “Um, how about we talk about where we’re going?” I asked, looking around. I was pretty sure I’d seen this part of the city before and I didn’t like that it was getting steadily more familiar.  
  
      “Oh, nowhere in particular,” he said with a shrug. “I only know a little bit of this place, so I figured, just around where I live. It’s very pretty over here.”  
  
      “Yeah, it’s awesome,” I muttered. He must have noticed something was up.  
  
      “Aeva, what’s wrong?” He asked. “You’re tensing up.”  
  
      “I just, well…” I couldn’t say it. “Just…do you see that building right there?” I asked, pointing at a tall, steely looking structure. Nathan nodded. “I…used to live there.”  
  
      “I checked that place out,” he commented. “It’s nice. What inspired the move?”  
  
      “I was kind of left there,” I muttered.  
  
      “By who?” His voice had changed.  
  
      “My fiancé,” I replied, looking back up at him. He was glaring at the entrance.  
  
      “There are much better places for a person like you,” he growled. “And much more fitting places for people like him.”  
  
      “You don’t even know him,” I laughed, shocked by his reaction. He looked down at me with those honey eyes.  
  
      “There’s never a good enough reason to leave someone behind,” he said quietly. “You just shouldn’t do it.”  
  
      “Does it bother you in general or just that it happened to me?”  
  
      “Both,” he said sternly. We started walking again and suddenly, I didn’t mind being so close to the old apartment. Nathan was right; Jason didn’t deserve that apartment. The apartment that I blew my college fund on; the one that I spent weeks decorating, cleaning, perfecting; the one that I cooked for him in, that we conceived a child in. He would never know this kid. He didn’t deserve that either.  
  
     Nathan and I kept walking for a long time. It was almost completely dark and we kept passing taller, more ornate buildings. This was the part of New York that people dreamed about when they decided to come here. In reality, this was the impossible. There was no way the average man could ever make it here. Just being here, being around all these people—all in their trench coats, and stilettos, and cocktail dresses, and suits—made me feel out of place. They were all getting ready for their second lives, the night time. What was I ready for?  
  
     I was ready for bed. I was tired. I wanted to go home and go to sleep. I had to get up and go to work at the factory in the morning. What was I even doing out this late?  
  
      “Nathan,” I said, tugging his sleeve to get his attention. “I’m pretty whooped. It’s just about bed time for the old lady; I’m sorry.”  
  
      “Okay,” he laughed. “I almost forgot that you have work tomorrow. We’ll cross here and turn back.” We switched directions and just kept walking. I was really dragging.  
  
      “Um, okay, so I know I don’t have any money on me right now,” I said slowly. “But, could we please take a cab back to my house? I can pay you back when we get there.”  
  
      “Well, I wasn’t thinking of going all the way back to your place,” he said awkwardly.  
  
      “Where are we going?” I asked, peering up at him. He smiled back.  
  
      “To my house,” he replied.  
  
      “What will we do there?” I asked teasingly.  
  
      “Sleep, then hopefully wake up, like I do every night,” he laughed. “I figured you could just stay there for the night. I’ll take you to work in the morning.”  
  
     A sleep over at Nathan’s house? Well, that didn’t sound half bad. Although, I would really have to stress to him that I _am_ pregnant. There would be no sex; that felt kind of messed up to me. Plus, I was nervous about blowing things.  
  
     I liked Nathan, but I’d been ditched before. I was terrified for it to happen again. But then again, Nathan didn’t seem the type to just leave. He’d taken such good care of me when he’d found me in the street. He’d been so sweet during the day and this walk had been fun while it lasted. So would it be that bad to keep it going? Was there any reason to think that I couldn’t keep control of the situation?  
  
      “Alright then. I’m actually kind of curious about your place,” I said after a moment. I’d never been so curious about anything in my life.  
  



	6. Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret's out.

###  _Nathan_

           This was bad. I should not be doing this. I should have insisted that I go home alone and just stayed the hell out of her life. But no, I stood in her apartment and decided, _Sure Nathan, it’s okay_. So here I was, strolling through the city with her under my arm and just eating it up. I almost relished the stares we got from passersby. Aeva was lovely, even mussed the way she was, and I was a vampire. People always stared at me. But today, I knew it was different, because for once, the women were jealous and so were the men, and Aeva stuck by _me_. I was basking in that sick sort of pride when I felt a tug on my sleeve.  
  
      “Nathan,” she said. “I’m pretty whooped. It’s just about bed time for the old lady; I’m sorry.”  
  
      “Okay,” I laughed. “I almost forgot that you have work tomorrow. We’ll cross here and turn back.” I wanted to keep it light, but internally, I was kicking myself. Not only was she pregnant, she was _injured_. I couldn’t possibly make her walk home now. Perhaps we could stay at my apartment, or at the very least she could rest for a moment there while we arranged something else.  
  
      “Um, okay, so I know I don’t have any money on me right now,” she said slowly as we continued plodding. “But, could we please take a cab back to my house? I can pay you back when we get there.”  
  
      “Well, I wasn’t thinking of going all the way back to your place,” I said awkwardly. She was so tired. I would have carried her if she’d have let me. Something in my head told me she was much too independent to allow that, though. But if there was anything I could do for her, I’d do it…maybe just a piggyback?  
  
      “Where are we going?” She asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.  
  
      “To my house,” I said, curious about what her reaction would be. She just looked up at me.  
  
      “What will we do there?”  
  
      “Sleep, and then hopefully wake up, like I do every night.” I lied. “I figured you could just stay there for tonight. I’ll take you to work in the morning.” She considered this for a moment.  
  
      “Alright then. I’m actually kind of curious about your place,” she said as we went. After a long while, we reached my apartment building.  
  
      “Let’s…never…do…that…again!” Aeva puffed. “I can’t walk this much, Nathan. Not when I’m—” and she stopped.  
  
      “When you’re what?” I asked, glancing down at her. She seemed to have an internal debate and then sighed, pulling me to edge of the sidewalk to get out of the way.  
  
      “Look, Nathan,” she said, staring up at me meaningfully. “I know we’ve only really known each other for—well, it’s coming up on twenty four hours—but I think I like you. I’ve never known anyone like you; you’re just…good, and I like that. I really want to keep spending time with you, but there’s something that you have the right to be fairly warned about.” She took a deep breath and shut her eyes.  
  
      “Nathan, Henri was serious about what she said back at my place. I’m pregnant,” she said finally. She opened her eyes and looked at me again. “I’m going on three months.”  
  
      “Okay,” I said with a smile. “You’re pregnant. That’s fine.”  
  
      “Really?” She asked, sounding taken aback. Now I sighed.  
  
      “Look, Aeva,” I said, just like she had. “I think I like you too, and that doesn’t happen easily for me. The fact that you’re pregnant doesn’t change anything for me.”  
  
      “Thank you, Nathan,” she laughed, leaning forward and hugging me. It caught me off guard, but my arms curved around her of their own accord, not caring that I was surprised. After we pulled away, I led a much more bouncy Aeva into the building and up to my apartment.  
  
      “I should’ve known you were an uptown guy,” she whispered as we padded across the carpeted hallway.  
  
      “Oh, whatever,” I grumbled, unlocking the door and letting her in. When she walked in, she seemed stunned. The room was all done in black and white. The walls and carpet were white with black furniture and ornate black and white vases on the tables. There were black and white photos everywhere and a big picture window that led out to my balcony.  
  
      To the left was the kitchen with the little breakfast bar. Off the kitchen was a hallway that led to my bedroom, which I’d taken care to furnish accordingly even if I didn’t sleep in there. The bathroom was off the living room, all of which I showed to Aeva in a mini tour. She was incredibly tense again by the time it was over.  
  
      “What’s wrong?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows at her.  
  
      “You don’t live here.”  
  
      “Yes I do,” I laughed. She looked up at me sternly.  
  
      “At the very least, you haven’t lived here for a while,” she snapped.  
  
      “What are you talking about?” I asked. She narrowed her eyes at me.  
  
      “This place is impeccable. Not a single thing is out of place. It looks like a show room.”  
  
      “I like to keep my home clean,” I said, now getting defensive. “I’m a neat freak.”  
  
      “That’s a lie,” she laughed. “If you were a neat freak, you wouldn’t have just thrown your coat over that chair when we came in. You would have hung it up.”  
  
      “I cleaned the place before I left yesterday,” I snapped. “I’m sorry I’m not freaking out over my coat. I’m tired.”  
  
      “Lying again,” she said. “If you were tired, you would have taken a cab here. You wouldn’t have walked so long to get home.”  
  
      “It’s a work out,” I groaned. “I walk to stay fit.”  
  
      “You’re a health nut?” She asked, still suspicious.  
  
      “Yes,” I sighed, assuming she was starting to be convinced. Usually it only took a few seconds of chatter to calm a human down.  
  
      “Then I’m sure you were going to eat something after that walk,” she snapped. “I’ll get it for you.” She went to the fridge and threw the door open. I had made sure there was food in there. I even went through and dumped some of the juice out and threw away some of the food to make it look like I’d been eating it. She shouldn’t find anything wrong there. But she did.  
  
      “You don’t eat?” she asked, turning around to look at me.  
  
      “What are you talking about now?” I laughed, trying to make her feel foolish. She was sailing in dangerous waters.  
  
      “There are no left overs in here,” she commented. “No take out.”  
  
      “I told you, I’m a health nut,” I explained. “I cook all of my own food.” She turned back and opened the freezer, revealing frozen pizzas and microwave meals. Damn it.  
  
      “You’re lying again,” she hissed.  
  
      “Okay, I’m lying,” I gasped. “I just don’t like going out to eat. That doesn’t mean I don’t eat _at all_.” She stuck her hand in the fridge and threw me a pudding cup.  
  
      “Eat it,” she commanded.  
  
      “I’m on a low fat diet,” I laughed. “We went over this at lunch.”  
  
      “Then why’d you buy it?” She demanded. “And if you’re a health nut, you wouldn’t have skipped two meals in a row. You didn’t eat breakfast _or_ lunch at my place.”  
  
      “I had a big dinner before I found you and I just didn’t want to eat at your apartment, okay?” I asked.  
  
      “Stop lying,” she demanded. “People overeat because they make too much food. If you’d made too much food and had a big dinner there would be left overs. But there aren’t, so how could you have had a big dinner? Did you go out to eat, like you don’t like to do?”  
  
      I was caught. She was glaring at me, but her eye brows shot up as an idea occurred to her. She went into the bedroom, with me on her heels, and threw back the covers.  
  
      “You don’t sleep?” She asked, pointing at the sheets.  
  
      “What?” I asked. How did she guess that from the sheets?  
  
      “There isn’t a single wrinkle in these,” she said, her voice getting a little louder. “If you slept here, they’d be wrinkled, even if you made the bed. If you just put on a new set, there would be creases from them being folded in the package. If there are no wrinkles in sheets, it means the blankets have been left still for so long that they pressed them out. My mother was a cleaning woman, hombre, I know.”  
  
      “Hombre?” I said, both astonished by her logic and very confused by the sudden switch in language.  
  
      “Sí, hombre,” she repeated. “You know what else my mother taught me?” She darted past and I followed her into the bathroom, where she threw open she shower curtain. “Mildew forms when you shower. Even if you wash it off the shower, it’s on the soap bottles. There is nothing on your shower or your soap. Nathan, _what is going on_?” she yelled. “You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you don’t bathe, you’ve staged an apartment, you don’t make noise when you move, you’re freezing cold, your skin is hard. What are you?”  
  
      “I can’t tell you,” I said quietly. She paled and had to sit on the toilet.  
  
      “Díos mio,” she whispered, trying to calm down. “That was a shot in the dark and he says _he can’t tell me_?” After a long minute, she looked up at me. “Qué eres? What are you? Nathan, I’ve been honest with you, I told you I was pregnant. It took a lot for me to tell you that and I really do like you. You said things like this don’t happen easily for you, and they don’t for me either. I’ve had a lot of lying lately. Give me a little honesty. _What are you_?” I stared down at her.  
  
      “I can’t tell you,” I whispered again, pain shooting through my chest as she started to cry. I slumped down on the floor. “I can’t do that to you; I can’t tell you what I am. You’d be in so much danger.” We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity.  
  
      “Are you good or bad?” She asked quietly. I looked up at her and she was staring at me.  
  
      “I—I try to be good,” I sighed. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be, though. If I was, it wouldn’t be this hard.” She nodded, as if that reassured her.  
  
      “So you’re almost human,” she concluded. “On the inside, you’re human.”  
  
      “I was all human once,” I laughed humorlessly. “Till Viktor.”  
  
      “Who is Viktor?”  
  
      “My…creator,” I explained. “A sort of father.”  
  
      “So, a father of sorts, but not adoptive?” she asked, eyes closed.  
  
      “He did adopt me though,” I said, mulling it over. “With our kind, the ones you change are your family.” She looked at me.  
  
      “So Viktor’s one too,” she said. “And he changed you, and you can change people too.”  
  
      “You put things together pretty fast,” I mused, smiling weakly. She stared at my mouth and suddenly, her eyes went wide and her breathing became ragged.  
  
      “Nathan,” she huffed, “Don’t lie to me, okay?”  
  
      “Okay,” I agreed, growing more concerned by the second.  
  
      “And please tell me I’m wrong,” she pleaded, closing her eyes.  
  
      “Um, okay.”  
  
      “Vampire.”  
  
      I didn’t say anything. She opened her eyes.  
  
      “Tell me I’m wrong,” she pleaded. “Please, be honest and tell me I’m wrong.” A long minute passed.  
  
      “It’s one or the other.”  
  
      She closed her eyes again. Another minute.  
  
      “Did you bring me here to kill me?” she asked, putting her hands protectively on her stomach. “Because I know I can’t fight you and I know no one will miss me, but my baby—.” Her voice broke and she started crying. “Don’t kill me,” she sobbed. “Don’t kill _us_.” I was on my knees beside her in an instant.  
  
      “No, no, no, no,” I cooed, wiping feverishly at her tears. “I’m not going to kill you, Aeva, no. I couldn’t, I could never hurt you. No, no, no.” I pulled her head forward and rested it against my chest and rubbed her back to get her to stop crying. It was unbelievably painful to see her cry; to see her fear for her child’s life; to see her fear _me._  
  
      “You don’t have a heart beat,” she murmured once her sobs had subsided.  
  
      “You do,” I replied. “And I can hear it and it’s very loud when you’re nervous or scared. But when you’re calm, like right now, I can hear your baby’s heart beat too.” She gasped and pulled away from me.  
  
      “You can hear it?” she asked, staring at me with almost hopeful eyes. I nodded and she looked down. “You’re really in there, huh?” she said, stroking her tummy.  
  
      “You didn’t think it was?” I asked, wanting very much to pull her chin up so she looked at me. “What made you think that?”  
  
      “I’m not showing,” she sighed, granting my wish and looking back up. “I’m almost three months and my pants aren’t even tight.” I laughed and she leaned forward, sighing exasperatedly and resting her forehead against my mouth.  
  
      “It’s in there,” I assured her, my lips still on her skin. “I listened to it all last night.”  
  
      “You knew what it was?” She asked. I felt her eyebrows furrow against my lips. I pulled back and looked her square in the face.  
  
      “I knew what it was,” I said firmly. “I knew you were pregnant, I knew your name, I knew your parents’ names, your age, your birthday; I even knew about your run away groom.”  
  
      “How?” she asked, sounding mystified.  
  
      “You told me,” I replied, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She shook it back into place. “Every time I meet a stranger, I hear their back stories, but only the things that they felt were important in their lives.”  
  
      “Can all vampires do that?” she asked, still totally calm. I shook my head.  
  
      “Just me,” I said with a smile. “But there are others with gifts. Some read minds, some find people, some see the future, some know when they’re being lied to, some can make you feel the most excruciating pain of your life or feel nothing at all; My father can poof.”  
  
      “ _Poof_?” she laughed, seeming to take it in stride. I laughed too, picking up her hands to play with them.  
  
      “Mhmm,” I murmured, bending each finger in turn. “He can disappear and reappear anywhere, and he can take one person with him if he chooses to do so. He was a very good sneak as a human.”  
  
      “Is that what decides your gift? What you were good at?” She asked, watching me closely.  
  
      “Yes,” I said with a shrug. “We think so anyways.”  
  
      “Were you a history nerd?” she asked, grinning at me again.  
  
      “Nope,” I said, smiling. “I was a good listener. People told me everything.”  
  
      “Oh,” she said, thinking it over. “That makes sense.” I smiled again.  
  
      “Are you okay with this?” I asked earnestly. “I know it’s a lot.”  
  
      “I think I’m okay,” she said, nodding. “I’m not scared, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t think I’m traumatized either.”  
  
      “Are you stable enough to leave the bathroom?” I asked standing and offering her my hands.  
  
      “Woah,” she said, eyes wide. I hadn’t slowed myself down.  
  
      “That’s normal speed for me,” I said carefully. “Is that okay?”  
  
      “Will you still slow it down when you walk with me?” She asked, taking my hands and letting me pull her up.  
  
      “Of course,” I said, putting my arms around her. “I like to draw that out.”  
  
      “I like how cold you are,” Aeva laughed, putting her face in my chest.  
  
      “Do you really?” I asked, honestly shocked. She nodded into me.  
  
      “I’m always hot,” she said, though it was muffled. “Every room is too hot. You cool me down.”  
  
      “You ever suck on an ice cube?” I asked. She looked up at me with an eye brow raised. “This isn’t sexual,” I laughed, and her eyebrow went down. “Answer the question.”  
  
      “Yes,” she said, grinning.  
  
      “You ever drink something hot after?”  
  
      “That _burns_ ,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.  
  
      “That’s what this is like,” I said, squeezing her a little. “You’re really hot.”  
  
      “Does it hurt?”  
  
      “No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s nice.”  
  
      “Yeah,” she agreed, putting her head back down. “It _is_ nice.” We stayed like that for a few more minutes before I finally broke the silence.  
  
      “Aeva?”  
  
      “Yeah?” She asked, looking up at me, but still resting her chin on my chest.  
  
      “I think you should go to bed,” I said with a smile. “It’s almost one in the morning.”  
  
      “Fair enough,” she relented. I unhooked her arms from around me and led her into the bedroom.  
  
      “Am I going to be the first person to ever sleep in that bed?” She asked as I pulled back the covers.  
  
      “Yeah, actually,” I laughed. “Now get to it.”  
  
      “You first,” she scoffed. “That thing will cook me alive with all those blankets.”  
  
      “Alright, fine,” I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. “Just take something out of the closet to sleep in.” She eyed me carefully and backed her way to the bureau. I couldn’t help but laugh at her and she smiled back before snatching a pair of boxer shorts and going to the door.  
  
      “Get in there,” she prompted, making me laugh again.  
  
      “I’ll be here when you get back.”  
  
      “Well, you’d better be ready for bed too then,” she said, making a face before she left to change. Once she was gone, I slid my jeans off and put on a pair of sweats. I took my shirt off and considered putting on another, but figured she’d prefer it if I didn’t, so I got in the bed like that. A little while later, Aeva came back in her tank top and my boxers and climbed in beside me. I clicked off the lamp and she nestled in with her head on my shoulder and one arm across my stomach.  
  
      “Nathan,” she whispered after a while. “When you said you liked me, what did you mean?” I wasn’t sure how best to answer that. I couldn’t tell her I thought she was the most fascinating woman I’d ever met, that she had an inexplicable pull on me. She’d just found out I was a vampire. Adding that in would be too much for day one.  
  
      “I meant,” I replied carefully, “that I wouldn’t mind spending more nights like this. What did _you_ mean?”  
  
      “I meant,” she began. “I meant…” I looked down at her to see her looking right back. She stared at my face for a long while and then slowly slid her hand up my chest and around to the back of my head. I felt a little pressure from her and, as my years handling humans had taught me to do, I allowed her to pull my face to hers. She kissed me then; I knew it might have been a rough kiss had I been human, but it felt feather light. What I felt more clearly than her actual lips was the heat behind them. I found myself pressing into it, kissing back.  
  
      When she pulled away, I came to my senses. This was not safe. I needed to take her arm off of me, I needed to get out of the bed, I needed to call Viktor, but before I could move, those lips like smoldering rose petals were on the corner of my mouth, and then just under my chin, and then up, up, up to the base of my ear. My eyes rolled back and I just let her go; I’d never felt anything like it before. I surprised even myself with a moan as she traced her kisses down my neck to my collar bone. She lingered there a moment, I felt her smile against my skin, and then she ran her hands through my hair and came back to my mouth.  
  
      I didn’t have the will power to push her off—I enjoyed it far too much—but I figured I could at least manage to stay still. I was dead wrong. As she played with my hair and pressed against me, my hands went to her face of their own accord. I was very careful with her as my thumbs traced her cheek bones. I decided I might try what she had been doing and I kissed her neck and shoulders as well. As I did, my hands slid down her arms and our fingers laced together. I pulled her rough fingers to me and kissed each one in turn. When I reached her thumb, she untangled our fingers and put her hand under my chin, bringing my mouth back to hers. She kissed me again and again, keeping one hand on my cheek and the other in my hair. I pushed back into each touch from her lips until she finally pulled away.  
  
      “That’s what I meant,” she whispered. I grinned and kissed her forehead.  
  
      “Me too,” I murmured. “But you need to understand, that’s all it can be. Just closed lips.”  
  
      “That’s all it needs to be,” she said quietly before shifting and kissing me one last time before she settled back down on my shoulder. She fell asleep in my arms after about half an hour. That’s when it really sunk in. I’d just kissed a human.  
  
      Why did that feel like more of a milestone than telling her I was a vampire?  
  



	7. Leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can only avoid family for so long.

###  _Aeva_

               That was quite possibly the most significant night of my life. I learned that Nathan was a vampire, a fact that I could apparently lose my life over. But, what seemed like a bigger deal was that that was the night when Nathan stopped reigning in his affection. He kissed me, he hugged me, he held me, he stroked my hair and he acted like it was the greatest thing in the world when I did the same to him. At one point, I kissed his throat and he _moaned_. It was just a peck! That was all our kisses needed to be. To be honest, we were very chaste.  
  
      Mostly, we just talked. We spent the week talking. I’d go to work, Nathan always accompanying me, and then he’d be waiting with a cab when my shift was done. From there, we’d go back to his place or mine and just talk. We stayed awake quite a few nights talking; well, _I_ stayed awake; Nathan just stayed.  
  
      He told me about being changed and what it felt like. He told me about Viktor and about his ‘vegetarian’ diet. We briefly discussed his work with the elderly, but he refused to go into detail about his life as a human.  
  
      I told him about my life growing up and how big my family was and how into art I was. I told him about my dad and about our camping trips. He seemed really interested in those.  
  
      “We would go all the way up to this one lake; it was almost a four hour drive and it was mostly back roads,” I said, lying on my back in the living room. We were in there, in the dark, on the floor, just talking. Had been for hours.  
  
      “Anyway,” I continued. “It was just me and him—my siblings never came—and we’d go to our spot. It was this great big clearing that looked out on the lake. There was a little cliff down to the water’s edge and he always told me that he wanted me to be able to walk out over the water someday. I always went real close to the cliff, and he said that if I could only walk over the water, he’d never worry about me falling in.”  
  
      “Ever actually fall?” he asked.  
  
      “No,” I laughed. “But that’s where I started drawing. I would draw everything I saw out there: birds, bugs, grass, trees. Once, my dad saw me drawing a bear and he grabbed me in one arm, the tent in the other and we booked it outta there.”  
  
      Nathan laughed.  
  
      “And, in our tent, he’d turn on the lantern and give me a show with shadow puppets. Those were always the best,” I sighed. “They were only ever an eagle, a bunny, a dog, and a duck because that’s all he knew how to do, but they were fantastic. I loved them so much that after he told them to me, I’d draw them and then he would write in the words. And the stories were always about the same animals. Buck the Duck, Pog the Dog, Hunny the Bunny, and Holden the Eagle.”  
  
      “Holden the Eagle?” He laughed. “Well _he_ certainly fits in.”  
  
      “Holden the _Golden_ Eagle,” I laughed. “Cut me some slack, I was just a kid when I named them.”  
  
      “Fine, fine.”  
  
      “Anyway, back at the house, my dad has shelves and shelves of our stories.”  
  
      “I’d like to read them someday,” Nathan murmured. “I’ll read all about Pog the Dog.” I just smiled.  
  
      “Maybe. I miss that clearing, though. He taught me how to whittle out there when I was eight or nine. He gave me one quick lesson and then we just sat and whittled all day. He made a pipe out of wood and I carved him an angel out of a bar of soap. He still has it; it’s on his nightstand.  
  
      “Those were some of my favorite times growing up: our camping trips. They were always at the same time too. Third week of July, always: one day to get up there and get settled, five days to camp, then one day to tear down and come home. I told him once that I wished that place _was_ home and he promised that someday, it would be. Ever since then, I’ve always wanted to build a house there.”  
  
      “Think you ever will?” He asked, rolling over onto his stomach. I rolled over too.  
  
      “Maybe,” I sighed.  
  
      “Aeva?”  
  
      “Yeah Nathan?”  
  
      “It’s bedtime for the human,” he laughed. “It’s four thirty in the morning.”  
  
      “Will you ever just let me stay up?” I asked as he helped me to my feet.  
  
      “Maybe, but it’s doubtful,” he said, taking me into the bedroom. He pulled back the covers and I gave him a little shove. He laughed and got in and I crawled in after him, curling up against his chest.  
  
      “Good night, my little human,” he murmured.  
  
      “See you in the morning,” I laughed. And I did. And the next morning. And the next. I stayed at Nathan’s apartment for two entire weeks. I didn’t care that I still had to go to the factory every day or that all my stuff was at my place, I was happy at Nathan’s. I was happy _with_ Nathan. It was really strange to have someone treat me the way he did. He’d offer to do things for me, like cook or go get something, and if I said I’d do it, he’d just drop it. He didn’t push chivalry on me but he was very much a gentleman.  
  
      He also did nice things, just because. Like I went into the bathroom once and there were girly soaps, cleansers, hair brushes, ponytails—a full supply of all my feminine needs. After the third day, I opened the closet and saw all of my clothes hanging up in there. I didn’t know when he’d gone to get them. Life at the apartment was great and we spent every night just hanging out; it was wonderful, except for Nathan’s tendency to nag me about one little thing.  
  
         “I really think you should go back to your parent’s house,” he said as I made myself dinner one night. He was sitting at the breakfast bar supervising.  
  
         “Nathan, honey, I think you should mind your own business,” I grumbled under my breath.  
  
         “I can hear you,” he sighed. “And this _is_ my business. It’s not healthy for you to be on your own when you’re this young, especially since you’re pregnant. You need your family or you’re never going to get through this.”  
  
      “I’ll be fine,” I sighed, “and I already told you, they don’t want to see me.”  
  
      “You don’t know that,” he countered. “You should check. I’d even go with you.”  
  
      “You would come with me to see my family?” I asked disbelievingly, pouring my soup into a bowl.  
  
      “I would gladly accompany you,” he replied, sitting back in his chair.  
  
      “Well then, if I ever decide to actually go and see them, you may tag along.”  
  
      “I’m not getting anywhere with this tonight, am I?” he asked. I shook my head and he smiled. “I tried.”  
  
      “You did,” I agreed. “And it was a valiant effort. Now let’s talk about something else.”  
  
      “Okay,” he said happily. “I’m moving.”  
  
      “What?” I asked with a spoonful of soup half way to my mouth.  
  
      “I’m moving,” he said. “Soon.”  
  
      “Where?”  
  
      “I don’t know yet,” he sighed, looking out the window. “Maybe another state. I was thinking Detroit, Michigan.”  
  
      “Detroit?” I spat. “What the hell is in Detroit? Why are you moving?”  
  
      “I don’t age, remember?” he asked. “People notice that after a while. Plus, the Volturi like to keep tabs on me. If I stay in one place too long, they come calling. I have to relocate, it’s an occupational hazard.”  
  
      “How long have you been here?”  
  
      “Not very long, just a little over a month.”  
  
      “And people are going to notice that you’re not aging? After one month?”  
  
      “Well it’s not just that,” he laughed. “I can’t hunt here. There is a decided lack of game in the city, if you haven’t noticed. I have to go pretty far out of my way to get a meal.”  
  
      “Go eat a squirrel in central park!” I laughed. He shook his head.  
  
      “I don’t like New York. I’m moving.”  
  
      “Am I coming with you?” I asked, suddenly very curious.  
  
      “Of course,” he chuckled. “You know I’m a vampire; I can’t just let you go scampering off.”  
  
      “I’m not going to tell anyone!” I gasped.  
  
      “I know. But I’d like to keep you close, just in case.”  
  
      “So, Detroit, huh?” I asked, sipping the broth. “I hear there’s excellent wild life there.”  
  
      “You’re impossible,” he sighed, picking at his fingernails. “And, out of curiosity, if we moved, would you tell your parents?”  
  
      “Nathan,” I warned.  
  
      “Well, do they even know where you are?” he pressed. “Have you told them you’re alright? When you have the baby, are they ever going to get to see it?”  
  
      “I’m not having this discussion with you,” I snapped, throwing down my spoon. The truth was I hadn’t told them a thing. I’d called them to tell them that Jason had bailed, but I hadn’t seen them since I came to New York. I was scared to go back. They’d probably take me in, but what if they didn’t? That _if_ was enough to make me not want to risk it. Another rejection would be just what I didn’t need. I finished dinner quickly and Nathan apologized. I told him I’d think about going to see my parents and he seemed placated. Besides, a few days later, we had something bigger to deal with.  
  
      “Look, look, look,” I cheered, prancing out of the bathroom. “I’m showing!” I turned to the side and Nathan glanced up from his book.  
  
      “Food baby,” he muttered, turning the page.  
  
      “No, no, no,” I sighed. “Real baby. I’ll show you.” And I pulled my tank top up and put his hand against my stomach. When he looked up he seemed surprised.  
  
      “What are you doing?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.  
  
      “Just let me,” I commanded, and I pressed on his hand a little. His eyebrows shot up when he felt what I’d felt: a little lump where the baby was.  
  
      “Oh my god,” he whispered, smiling hugely.  
  
      “I know!” I said happily. “It’s in there! It’s really in there! I’m having a baby!” He laughed and stood up. I thought he was going to give me a hug, but he just stared at me with this big smile that made a dimple in his left cheek show. Slowly, he put one hand on either side of my face and pulled gently. As I went forward, so did he, and he keep his sweet black eyes on mine until the last second, when he looked down at my lips just before they met his. It was only a quick peck, but he let the cool plane of his forehead rest against mine and he smiled before kissing me again, longer this time. Finally, he pulled away, kissed my forehead, and let me go.  
  
      “You should do that more often,” I breathed. He laughed and pulled me back down on the couch with him. I laid my head in his lap and stretched out my legs.  
  
      “Aeva, as happy as I am about your big news and impending stretch marks—“  
  
      “Ass.”  
  
      “—I have to go on a little trip,” he said awkwardly. “It won’t be long though; probably just an evening.”  
  
      “Where to?” I asked lazily, picking up the book he’d been reading.  
  
      “Hunting,” he replied. “I’m not feeling so great right now; it’s been almost two and a half weeks since I’ve gone.”  
  
      “Oh, okay,” I said sitting up. “When are you going?”  
  
      “Tonight,” he replied. “I’ll have a cell phone on me, but I can’t promise I’ll get reception. I wasn’t lying when I said I have to go out of my way. I’m really sorry I have to go.”  
  
      “No, no, don’t be,” I laughed. “You have to eat.” He smiled at me, making his black eyes sparkle. I’d never seen his eyes so dark before or the shadows under his eyes so pronounced.  
  
      “You know,” he said after a moment, “I would love to kiss you like that again, but I don’t think I could.”  
  
      “Kiss me when you get back,” I told him, laying back down and picking up one of his hands. I played with his fingers and he kept his hand very relaxed so that I could bend them.  
  
      “Show me how to make a bunny, like your dad does,” he said, watching me play. I smiled, took his other hand as well, and folded his fingers accordingly. There was a shaft of sunlight poking out of the New York haze that was perfect for shadow puppets. I put his hands in front of it and was nearly blinded by a brilliant flash of light. Instantly, he was sitting in an arm chair across the room and had his hands firmly in his lap.  
  
      “What was _that_?” I asked, blinking the spots out of my eyes. “Was that your _hands_?”  
  
      “Yes,” he said tersely. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” I got up and took his hands again and he, albeit unwillingly, let me lead them back to the little sun beam. The light fractured into a thousand bits, glinting off his skin like broken glass, like diamonds.  
  
      “This is amazing,” I whispered, making him turn his hands and sending the light into a shimmering frenzy. When I looked back at his face, he seemed shocked.  
  
      “It doesn’t freak you out?” He asked.  
  
      “Well, I certainly didn’t expect it,” I laughed, “but, no. It’s not freaky. It’s gorgeous.”  
  
      “Right, well, I’m just going to go hunting now then,” he said, putting his hands into his pockets.  
  
      “Why do you have to go now?”  
  
      “Because, even if it doesn’t freak you out, that was just a little embarrassing and I’m trying to save face.”  
  
      “Why is it embarrassing?”  
  
      “I sparkle,” he snorted, “Like a kindergarten craft project.”  
  
      “I mean, it’s a bit more tasteful than that,” I laughed.  
  
      “Yes, well, never the less. I’m going to go kill something large.” He vanished and reappeared at the door. I still wasn’t used to how fast he was. “I’ll be back as soon as possible, but you know, I’ll uh, have to take my time. The stuff I hunt is pretty tough. Bears and wolverines and…things.”  
  
      “And things?”  
  
      “Yeah…like…mostly deer.” I laughed at him and waved him out the door. He waved back and was gone in an instant. Once he’d left, I turned back to the sun beam and started to do shadow puppets on my own.  
  
      First I did the bunny. I made it hop and rub its little nose. Then the eagle, wings forever spread. Then the duck that was forever only a head. The same with the dog. Papá had always been much better at shadow puppets than me. I missed his little shows. I missed his hands.  
  
      He’d always had huge hands; my brother Manuel had inherited them. I remember running as fast as I could into Papá’s hands. He’d sweep me up like it was nothing, maybe set me on his shoulder. He had always been the strongest man I’d ever known, until Nathan of course. But Papá was still the biggest. He had always had the biggest hands, the biggest arms, the biggest smile. Every time I was next to him, I felt so little, but he always noticed me and then I was ten feet tall. I was his girl, but I was Mamá’s star. Her Estrella.  
  
      She was everything to us kids growing up. She did it all. I remember her teaching my sisters and I how to braid hair and then there was the night that Frida, Lidia, and I sat side by side, laughing until we were out of breath, while Mamá tried to teach Manuel how to dance. When Frida got pregnant, Mamá was right there, holding her as she cried. Not once did she ever tell Frida she was ashamed of her or that she didn’t want Guadalupe or Chuy. She bawled her eyes out at both of their births which were, of course, family affairs. She cried just as hard when Manuel married Holly, his California-Girl, and when Holly had Mercedes. Holly had been so freaked out when she gave birth, because she’d only wanted her mom in the room, but all the women in our family had barged right in. That’s how we always did it. The women went in and brought the baby back out to the men. I was the one that got to carry Mercedes out to Manuel.  
  
      Manuel was the greatest big brother anyone could have ever asked for. Whenever I was too serious, he’d pounce on me and lighten the mood. Whenever I was sad, he’d leave the hugging to our parents and go hunt down whoever’d hurt me. Then there was Frida. She and I had fought constantly growing up, but we loved each other fiercely. Lidia was our little sister and she was so smart; a perpetual book worm. She looked up to me like I was some sort of idol and I’d always taken responsibility for her.  
  
      There was also Tío Carlos and his son Miguel (or Miguelito as everyone called him) and my abuelitos and Doña Luisa, abuelo’s mother. All of us together made a crazy mash up of different personalities, but we were family. Family to us Mexicanos was different from the family these Americans knew. We didn’t get divorces, we didn’t disown people, and we didn’t abort anything. So what the hell was I so afraid of? No matter what I did, my family would wait with open arms. Pregnant, unwed, or otherwise, I was their Aeva. That didn’t change. Ever.  
  
      I was going home.  
  
      I had all my clothes in a suitcase in less than twenty minutes, but Nathan was coming too. I couldn’t help but grin as I pulled shirts out of his dresser and set them in among my things. By the time Nathan actually came back, all our clothes were packed along with all my soaps and what not. I had the suitcases piled in the living room and I was watching tv.  
  
      “What’s all this?” He asked, closing the door behind him and staring at the bags. His hair was blown back, like he’d been running and his eyes had returned to that cheerful yellow color. “Where are you going?” He asked, now concerned.  
  
      “Home,” I said quietly. “And, I want you to come with me, if that’s okay.” He smiled hugely.  
  
      “Of course I’ll go with you,” he laughed, stepping forward and hugging me to him. “When did you want to go?”  
  
      “Now,” I said decisively. “If we wait, I might change my mind.”  
  
      “Okay,” he laughed again. “Right now, then. You give me an address and I’ll find us a way there. While I’m doing that, you call your work and let them know that you’ll be missing a few days.”  
  
      “I think I’m going to quit,” I murmured, stroking my belly. “The factory’s given me a little money, but, I don’t think I could work there much longer anyways. I just want to go home and not have to think about coming back here again.”  
  
      “Fair enough,” Nathan said, kissing my forehead. “You go quit, but give me your parents’ address first.” And I did.  
  
      The HR rep offered me her condolences on the sudden choice to quit work. That was one thing about factories; there’s no two week notice. When you’re done, you’re done and you can quit whenever, because the place never shuts down. It took five minutes and then I called Henrietta and Luzbel.  
  
      “I told you,” Henri laughed. “I told you someone would come find you.”  
  
      Luzbel told me to fuck off because now some awful person could end up working the tank next to her. I thanked her for her support. When I came out of the bedroom with my cell phone, Nathan was waiting with bags in hand.  
  
      “There’s a cab downstairs,” he announced. “The guy’s willing to drive us all the way there, right now.”  
  
      “Nathan, it’s eleven thirty at night!” I laughed. “It’s a nine hour drive.”  
  
      “I know, I was surprised too,” He said, grinning. “But come on. There will be no changing of minds.” I laughed at him and we bustled out of the door way and down to the street where, sure enough, a yellow cab was waiting.  
  
      “We agreed on pay in advance,” the cabby grumbled as Nathan put our things in the trunk.  
  
      “Of course,” he said, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket and handing it to the grubby little man. I decided not to ask any questions and just got in the back of the cab, with Nathan following quickly after.  
  
      “I can’t believe I’m actually going home,” I whispered excitedly, after a few hours of driving.  
  
      “I can’t believe you’re still awake,” Nathan laughed. Those were the last words I heard him say before I passed out on his shoulder. I slept almost the whole car ride. When Nathan shook me awake, it was bright out, but luckily there was no direct sunlight. We were stopped in front of a very familiar yellow house.  
  
      “It’s time to go,” he whispered. I smiled and we got out of the car. As soon as Nathan had all the bags, the taxi took off and we were left on the curb outside my house. We walked up the little pathway together and before I knew it, I was waiting with my fist in the air.  
  



	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always uncomfortable to introduce a new partner to the family.

###  _Nathan_

                She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There was a shout from inside, thumping of running feet, pots clanging, and finally, the door opened. A short, plump woman with her hair in a frazzled bun was there, yelling at someone farther in the house. She continued to shout as her history poured through my head. This was Maria Sanchez, Aeva’s mother.  
  
      “Ay, Chuy, va a la sala. No te aguanto cuando tú corras así,” she called.  
  
      “Abuela,” a child’s voice called back. “No quiero ir a la sala.”  
  
      “Cállate, chico,” she groaned. Then she turned to us. “I am so sorry, is there something I can help you…” but she trailed off. She was staring at Aeva with huge hazel eyes.  
  
      “No,” she whispered.  
  
      “Hola, Mamá,” Aeva said sheepishly and the woman lunged forward, burying her daughter’s little body in a crushing hug.  
  
      “Ay, mi hija,” Maria sobbed into Aeva’s hair. “Oh, Estrella, I’ve been so worried about you! You called and said Jason had left you and then nothing after that; I thought you’d died.”  
  
      “No, Mamá,” Aeva laughed. “I didn’t die. I’m fine. I’ve been fine the whole time.”  
  
      “Then why haven’t I seen you until now?” Maria demanded, shoving Aeva away so quickly that she stumbled back into me. “Eres una gran idiota if you thought you could get away with that one! We’ve been worried sick. You should have come home right away, mi hija.”  
  
      “I know,” Aeva sighed, regaining her footing. “I just had a little trouble figuring that out.”  
  
      “Oh, mi hijita!” She cried, snatching Aeva up again. “I’ve missed you so much.”  
  
      “I’ve missed you too, Mamá,” she laughed. “But don’t throw me again; you’ll scramble the baby.” Maria leapt back and slapped her forehead.  
  
      “El bebé!” She gasped. “I forgot! Oh, my Aeva’s going to be a mommy, and all on your own.” She put her hands over her mouth and stared down at Aeva’s tummy. “If it’s anything like its father,” she murmured. “I’ll kill it.” I couldn’t help but laugh, which made Maria glance up at me. Her hands dropped and her eyes bulged.  
  
      “H-hello,” she breathed.  
  
      “Hello,” I chuckled. She seemed to regain herself a little and began smoothing her hair furiously.  
  
      “Um, Aeva,” she said in a tight voice. “Who is this? I didn’t know you were bringing a guest; I would have dressed up a little.”  
  
      “If you’d known _I_ was coming, you still would have worn sweats,” Aeva snorted.  
  
      “Yes, but you’re not a six foot tall gorgeous man,” she hissed back, though I heard it anyways.  
  
      “Your home is lovely,” I commented. “And I’m actually closer to six and a half.” She blushed madly.  
  
      “Mamá, this is Nathan,” Aeva said, fighting a smile. “Nathan, this is my mother, Maria.”  
  
      “It’s lovely to meet you,” I said, bowing my head.  
  
      “Te amo, oh, I mean, ah,” Maria gushed. “Yes, nice to meet you. Please, both of you, come in, come in.”  
  
      “Te amo?” Aeva asked teasingly as we walked through the door.  
  
      “Oh, shut up,” Maria huffed, though she was grinning slightly. “I’ll tell everyone you’re here.” And she bustled off into the house.  
  
      “What does ‘te amo’ mean?” I asked, snaking an arm around Aeva. She leaned back against me and laughed.  
  
      “It means ‘I love you’.”  
  
      “Oh dear,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “That could make things very awkward between the three of us.”  
  
      “Oh just wait till my sister Frida sees you,” Aeva chuckled. “Then things will _really_ get awkward.” Then, all at once, there were three pairs of arms wrapped around our legs. Three short biographies flashed through for me; these were Aeva’s nieces and nephew.  
  
      “Tía, tía, tía!” The little boy was yelling.  
  
      “You’re back!” One girl shrieked, jumping up and down. The other little girl was hugging Aeva’s shins fiercely, but had a pacifier in her mouth.  
  
      “Hey guys,” Aeva laughed, crouching down. The three little kids immediately latched onto her neck.  
  
      “Hermanita!” A large man yelled from the end of the hall. He came barreling towards us followed by a girl that looked very much like Aeva. His past was blunt and fast and hers was rather long winded. He was Aeva’s big brother and she, her older sister. The man scooped Aeva and all three kids into a bear hug while the other woman reached up to touch Aeva’s face. They hugged and shouted for a moment longer before Aeva finally wrestled her way out.  
  
      “Okay, okay, introductions,” she laughed. “Everyone, this is Nathan,” she said, putting a hand on my chest. “Nathan, this is my brother, Manuel.”  
  
      The man stepped forward to shake my hand.  
  
      “This is my sister, Frida.” The woman batted her eyelashes and flipped her hair.  
  
      “And this is Manuel’s daughter, Mercedes,” Aeva continued, gesturing to the older girl. “And these are Frida’s kids, Jesús and Guadalupe. We just call them Chuy and Lupe.”  
  
      “It’s nice to meet all of you,” I said, smiling hugely.  
  
      “Oh, no, no hombre,” Manuel laughed. “This ain’t all of us. Everyone else is outside. Hold on.” He jogged out of the room and returned a moment later with a small crowd of people that all rushed forward to greet their long missing relative. One girl, Lidia from her history, was actually sobbing as she clutched Aeva.  
  
      “Oh, Liddy,” Aeva laughed, kissing the top of the girl’s head. “Liddy, don’t cry. I’m fine, hermanita, I’m fine.”  
  
      “I kn-know,” Lidia sniffed. “I j-just missed you.” Her face was very red and she was only about fifteen, but I could tell that she would look quite a bit like Aeva when she was older.  
  
      “Nathan,” Aeva said, turning back to me without letting go of Lidia. “This is my little sister, Liddy. Liddy, this is Nathan.”  
  
      “Hi,” Lidia laughed, wiping at her eyes.  
  
      “Move over, pequeñita,” a man about Manuel’s age and size cried, hip bumping Lidia into me. He grabbed Aeva in a hug as I steadied her sister.  
  
      “This is Miguelito,” Aeva gasped through the crushing embrace. “He’s my cousin.”  
  
      “Miguelito,” Manuel said, now looking very tense. A stooped old woman was clutching his arm with hands like claws and her history told me this was Aeva’s great grandmother. “Miguel. Let the viejos through.” Miguel looked up and then dove away from his cousin like she was covered in acid. Aeva walked slowly toward the scary old woman.  
  
      “Buenas dias, Doña Luisa,” she said, bowing her head a little. The woman squinted up at her.  
  
      “Pues, ven aqui, ven aqui,” she wheezed, opening her wizened arms. Aeva smiled and hugged her. “You disappear again and I’ll kill you.” The woman smiled and patted Aeva’s face before turning and tottering back out of the room.  
  
      “She’s learned English?” Aeva asked, glancing at her brother.  
  
      “Only enough to make death threats,” he shrugged.  
  
      “Nieta!” An old man shouted, bursting into the room. This was Juan Sanchez, Aeva’s grandfather. He was followed by a very tiny woman with long gray hair: Mariana Sanchez, Aeva’s grandmother.  
  
      “Abuelo! Abuelita!” Aeva laughed, hugging the pair of them. “Nathan, these are my grandparents.”  
  
      “I don’t know who you are,” the old woman sighed. “But call me Abuela, alright? He’s Abuelo to you, too. It’s just less confusing that way.”  
  
      “Duly noted, Abuela,” I said with a grin. She reached up and pulled me down to kiss my cheek before turning back to her husband and giving him a shove in the back.  
  
      “Go get your mother before she tries to open the remote again,” she ordered.  
  
      “You can’t open a remote.”  
  
      “Well, tell that to her,” Abula laughed. “She tore it in half yesterday.” The man paled a little and hurried off after Doña Luisa, his wife on his heels.  
  
      “Oh my god, Luisa is so damn scary!” Miguelito hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.  
  
      “I know,” Manuel agreed, picking up his daughter. “I’m just glad Holly won’t ever get like that. White women age normal, not all crazy.”  
  
      “Who’s Holly?” I asked.  
  
      “His wife,” Aeva explained, smoothing Lidia’s hair.  
  
      “Aevita, why don’t you go put your stuff in your room and we can give Nathan here a little tour,” Frida suggested, batting her eyes at me again.  
  
      “I think I’ll help Aeva with our bags,” I declined politely. Then I noticed how red Aeva was. Perhaps it was best for her to lie down. Her family dispersed back into the house and I gathered up the bags from the front step where we’d left them.  
  
      “Um, this way,” Aeva mumbled and she led me through the hall way and to the left, where a staircase was waiting. We went up and then to the end of the next hallway. All along the crème yellow walls were portraits of family members and brown oak doors. Finally, we came to a battered purple door with a tarnished brass knob.  
  
      “This is, um, well this is my room,” Aeva muttered before opening the door. She led me inside and I was amazed at what I saw. The room was small and had a pink tint because of the scarves hung over the windows in place of curtains. The walls were plastered with beautiful paintings and photos and the closet was over flowing with rolls of canvas. The dark wood floor had a green rug littered with crumpled figure drawings and pencil shavings. There was a desk and chair in the corner, both piled high with sketch books and paints and there were shelves everywhere with little hand carved figurines, intricate clay sculptures, and pottery. A huge bin of brushes, pencils, scissors, and sculpting tools sat next to a paint spattered easel in the corner, which had a half finished water color landscape pinned up. The only tidy part of the room was the little canopy bed in the middle, which had crisp white bedding and brightly colored pillows.  
  
      “Wow,” I said, setting everything down.  
  
      “I know, it’s a mess,” Aeva muttered, sitting down on the bed.  
  
      “Oh, the mess doesn’t bother me,” I laughed, spinning where I stood so that I could take everything in. “This is fantastic. Did you make all of these things?”  
  
      “Yeah, I did,” she replied, looking around. “Some of them aren’t very good; I should really take them down.”  
  
      “No, leave them,” I protested, going to sit by her. “If you take them down, how will you know that you’ve gotten any better?” She just sighed and put her head on my shoulder.  
  
      “I’m sorry you had to come with me,” she murmured. “My family’s a lot to take.”  
  
      “I like them,” I replied. “They’ve all got such huge personalities, I don’t know how all of you fit in one house.” Suddenly, Aeva’s skin on my shoulder was much warmer. I glanced down to see that she was red again.  
  
      “Are you alright?” I asked, stroking her cheek with my hand. “You’re so warm.” She looked away so our eyes couldn’t meet and then it hit me.   
      “Aeva Sanchez, are you embarrassed?” I laughed. She looked up at me with a hurt face.  
  
      “You don’t have to laugh.” I dropped my smile and took her face in my hands.  
  
      “I only laughed because it’s ridiculous,” I said sternly. “Why should you be embarrassed of the people that love you? Of the home that you come from?”  
  
      “Because they’re loud and my home is messy,” Aeva sighed. “We shout, and we swear, and we’re all crammed together. I mean, my great grandmother only knows enough English to make threats! Who only learns that much of a language? It’s just… not where you come from.”  
  
      “And I couldn’t care less,” I said, grinning again.  
  
      “Honestly?” she asked, her dark eyes searching mine.  
  
      “Yes,” I whispered. Then I pulled her forward for a kiss. She closed her eyes and sighed into it.  
  
      “Thank you,” she said when I pulled away. I just smiled at her and let my hands drop. She hopped up off the bed, a little more of her familiar energy showing through, and opened up a bag to unpack. She put both her and my clothes in the same drawers without seeming to care. But, soon, I began to notice that _all_ she was pulling from the bags were clothes and toiletries.  
  
      “Where is all your art stuff?” I asked with a frown. She turned around and looked at me like I was nuts.  
  
      “Open your eyes, amigo; it’s everywhere,” she laughed, swinging an arm at the room. I felt my frown deepen. It made sense to a degree that there was no art stuff at my place, but when I’d collected her things from her apartment, there’d been nothing there either. Just looking at this room I could tell that her work was her passion; why hadn’t she taken it with her? Aeva got up off the floor and put her palms against the planes of my face. My eyes followed hers and closed when she ran her fingers over the crease between my eye brows.  
  
      “What’s the matter?” She asked, kissing my now smoothed forehead. “Does it bother you that I don’t have _more_ art crap?” My frown returned and I opened my eyes.  
  
      “Yes, it does,” I growled. “Look at this place, Aeva. Art is what you _do_. You were with Jason for so long and on your own for three months after, and you have nothing new to show for it? You didn’t get any canvas, or paints, or anything? Did you even take any of it with you?” Aeva was shrinking back. I was standing with my hands out, towering over her; I hadn’t realized I’d gotten up. I sat back down and put my face in my hands.  
  
      “I’m sorry,” I muttered, deeply ashamed of myself. “I have no right to pry into your life like that. And I’m sorry I got angry; it scared you.” I felt her nestle my head against her neck as she laced her arms around me. Her fragrant hair settled around us like a curtain as she laid her head on mine.  
  
      “Don’t apologize for being angry,” she murmured. “And you can pry all you like. Right now, my life is—…” I looked up. Her face was an inch from mine and her hair still covered both of us.  
  
      “What? Your life is what?” I asked, cocking my head a little. She smiled and set her forehead against mine.  
  
      “It’s the same as yours,” she sighed. “For me, they’re synonymous. I can’t explain it, but I can’t think of…not having you around. I—I don’t know if it’s like that for you, but…” She trailed off and tried to pull away, but I kissed her before she could. My lips stopped her from leaving; she came back, came closer than before, and I couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.  
  
      “Of course it’s like that for me,” I replied, my lips still brushing hers as I spoke. “You’re as much a part of my future as I am. And I’m still sorry for being angry.”  
  
      “Oh, just be mad at me,” she laughed. “It’ll be something new and different for you.” She laughed again and pushed against me, prompting me to lie back across the blankets. As I fell, I grabbed her gently by the waist and brought her with me. She let out one of her loud laughs, and quickly smacked a hand over her mouth. I rolled my eyes and put a hand on the side of her head, guiding it down until she was lying against my chest.  
  
      “If I’m just supposed to be mad when I’m mad, then you have to really laugh when you laugh,” I said to the ceiling. “No covering your mouth.”  
  
      “But I laugh so loud,” she protested. I smiled.  
  
      “I like it.”  
  
      After a quiet moment, she sighed.  
  
      “No.”  
  
      I lifted my head to look at her and she turned so she could see me.  
  
      “No, I didn’t take any of it with me,” she clarified. “Jason and I agreed it would be easier if I left it. He said once we got settled, he’d get me new stuff, because I couldn’t afford it on my own.”  
  
      “But he left before then,” I finished. She looked away and blushed again. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed because he was an ass,” I groaned. She shook her head without lifting it and I felt a tear scald my skin. I was sitting up and cradling Aeva in my lap in half a second.  
  
      “You don’t have to baby me,” she grumbled. I kissed her temple.  
  
      “You don’t have to cry,” I murmured into her hair. “You shouldn’t ever have to cry. What did I say?”  
  
      “No, it isn’t you,” she sighed. “Well, it kind of is. It’s just, like…you wouldn’t have made me leave it. You wouldn’t have made me leave home. You wouldn’t have left me when I did.”  
  
      “My little love orphan,” I sighed, hugging her to me. She laughed and rested her head on my shoulder.  
  
      “Yeah, your little love orphan,” she agreed.  
  
      “Ay, hermanita,” Manuel said, bursting through the door. Aeva’s eyes bulged and she pushed out of my arms.  
  
      “Manuel, va, va,” she yelled, flying at him and trying to push his huge body out of the door frame. “Siempre vienes cuando no te quiero.”  
  
      “And you’re always doing something bad whenever I come in,” he laughed, flinging an arm around her neck and throwing her in a head lock.  
  
      “Ay, tortilla face, let go!” Aeva grunted, pushing on his arm. “Mamá! Help! Ayudame!”  
  
      “Manuel!” Maria’s voice called from the base of the stairs. “Let go of your sister.”  
  
      “Okay, Mamí,” Manuel laughed ruffling Aeva’s hair before releasing her. She punched his arm and chased after him as he bolted from the room. I heard them thunder down the stairs and run around the house.  
  
      “Ay! You two!” Maria hollered. “Would you knock it off? I swear, you’d think _you_ were the babies in this house.”  
  
      “Yeah, you’re setting a bad example for your kid,” Aeva laughed. I heard a swoosh and floomp as someone got hit with a pillow. There was more running, a shout, a crash and a flood of loud laughs all very much like Aeva’s. I smiled and headed down the stairs to find out what had happened.  
  
      Manuel was on the floor laughing while trying to comfort Jesús, who he’d apparently tripped over. The rest of the family was laughing along with Manuel, but when Aeva noticed me she jumped about three feet in the air.  
  
      “Nathan!” she shouted, hurrying over to me. “I forgot you were upstairs!”  
  
      “How can you forget _that_?” Frida said, winking at me. I hugged Aeva and shrugged in return.  
  
      “Oh, Frida just got shut down,” Manuel laughed, getting back to his feet and bringing Chuy with him. “It’s okay, mi hermana,” he said, tossing an arm around her shoulders. “You don’t like blondes anyway.” She just rolled her eyes and took Chuy from him.  
  
      “Hello?” A voice called from the front hall. “We’re home!”  
  
      “Papá, tío Carlos,” Lidia called back. “Aeva’s here!”  
  
      “What!” the voice yelled and there was a thump as someone was shoved out of the way. A moment later, a thickset man with graying hair and a bushy mustache flew into the room. He caught sight of Aeva and his big, black-brown eyes filled with tears as one of his large hands covered his mouth. His story rattled through my head; the last two things I heard were ‘my little girl left’ and ‘she just came back home’. I glanced down and saw Aeva was also tearing up.  
  
      “Hello, Papá,” she said. He laughed in disbelief and stuck out his other arm. Aeva flew to him and they embraced fiercely. As they hugged, another thick set man appeared around the door way. This one was balding with a very thin mustache, but the same dark eyes. He looked at me with a very confused and suspicious face. As I listened involuntarily to the stream of information, I learned that he was a long time skeptic, Miguelito’s father, and Aeva’s uncle.  
  
      “Who are you?” he asked, jabbing a thick finger towards me.  
  
      “Oh, I’m sorry,” Aeva laughed, letting go of her dad and wiping her eyes. She turned towards me. “Um, Papá, tío Carlos, this is Nathan. Nathan, this is my father Jaime and my uncle Carlos.”  
  
      “It’s very nice to meet you,” I said, inclining my head. Jaime extended his hand and I shook it gladly.  
  
      “And how do you know my niece?” Carlos asked, doing the same.  
  
      “She and I met about a month ago,” I replied. “We’re, ah, dating now.”  
  
      “Another new boyfriend?” Jaime groaned, looking back at Aeva.  
  
      “He’s better, Papá,” she sighed. “He’s perfect; he’s actually the one that convinced me to come home again.” Jaime raised his eye brows and smiled at me, but Carlos just gave me a slanted glance.  
  
      “How long is he staying?” he asked, shuffling past me.  
  
      “Oh, he’ll stay as long as Aeva does, I’m sure,” Jaime laughed, hugging his daughter again. “So hopefully forever.”  
  



	9. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had to tell them sometime...

###  _Aeva_

                      “How long is he staying?” Tío Carlos asked doing this sort of scurry past Nathan. He looked really uncomfortable around him. Papá didn’t seem to notice; he was staring down at me.  
  
        “Oh, he’ll stay as long as Aeva does,” he chuckled. “So hopefully forever.” Then he squeezed me one more time and I had this sort of involuntary collapse. He had to take a step back to steady himself, but he didn’t loosen his grip. Of course, Nathan’s hands were on me in an instant.  
  
        “Hija?” Papá asked, still smiling. “What’s wrong?” I was sort of staring down and I could clearly see four arms around me. Papá’s thick, muscled arms looked like they were doing most of the work in holding me up, but from what I felt it was the cold, hard pair that was keeping me standing. It took everything I had to tilt my head up and look at my father. I didn’t know why I was so limp but I did know that I was exhausted; more than I’d ever been in my entire life and not without reason. I’d gotten knocked up, been abandoned, worked in a factory, nearly died there, fallen for a stranger, found out he was a vampire, and never taken a break. But now, here I was back at home: the place where I didn’t have to be strong, I could be taken care of. I knew Nathan would do anything for me if I let him, but that wasn’t the same as home. This is where no one expected anything of me, no one judged me, no one cared if I gained a lot of baby weight or wore sweat pants for a week straight. This was where my brother pounced on me, my sisters whispered with me, my mamá cooked for me, and my papá held me like I was still a little girl. This is where I could finally be worn out. Why had I waited so long to come back?  
  
        “Aeva?” Nathan purred, right by my ear. He was stroking my forehead. I’d closed my eyes and when I opened them, Papá had a very concerned look on his face and I could feel a change in the energy of the room. It was very tense.  
  
        “Why is everyone so worried?” I murmured. Nathan smiled at me. He seemed to be the only one not freaking out.  
  
        “I think you just fell asleep standing up.”  
  
        “Oh,” I laughed. “No. I didn’t fall asleep. I just haven’t had a Jaime-hug in a long time.” Papá hugged me tighter.  
  
        “Well, while I’m sure that’s a contributing factor,” Nathan said, still grinning, and still secretly holding me up. “I’m pretty sure you’re whooped from the trip here.”  
  
        “I slept the whole way.”  
  
        “You slept in a taxi,” he laughed. “That doesn’t even count as sleep. Now come on.” He stepped back and put his hands out. His sudden release left me entirely in my father’s support and he staggered a little. Nathan just smiled sweetly and beckoned me to him, as though he wanted a hug. “Let’s go to bed. You need to sleep before you pass out on someone else.”  
  
        “He’s right, hija,” Mamá said, now smiling a little too. “Go to sleep. We’ll all still be here when you wake up.”  
  
        “And so will my hugs,” Papá laughed, kissing the top of my head.  
  
        “You look like hell,” added Manuel. “Go get some beauty rest.”  
  
        “Frida, smack him for me,” I sighed, reaching out and taking Nathan’s hands. I heard a slap and smiled as I was led towards the stairs.  
  
        “Do I really look that bad?” I asked, once we were around the corner and out of earshot.  
  
        “No,” Nathan replied as he swept me up and carried me to the second floor. “Although, I’m a little biased.” I smiled and he carried me to my room and plopped me on the bed. I sat cross-legged and he crawled over the covers and stretched out next to me, face down.  
  
        “Don’t tell me you’re tired too,” I laughed, rubbing his back. He let out a huge sigh.  
  
        “Not tired exactly,” he said in to the pillows. “But I need a little time to collect myself.”  
  
        “Are your nerves frazzled by the change of scenery?” I teased.  
  
        “No, frazzled by the sudden collapse of my—…” He stopped short.  
  
        “Your what?” I asked. Nathan turned his head and looked at me.  
  
        “My I-don’t-know,” he replied. “I don’t know what to call you.”  
  
        “Your roommate?” He rolled his eyes. “Your girlfriend?” He crinkled his nose. “Your lover?” He smiled and pushed himself on to his hands and knees.  
  
        “Yes,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing my neck and face. “My lover.”  
  
        “Was it really that alarming?” I asked as he continued. As soon as the words were out of my mouth he stopped and sat back on his heels. He _looked_ tired; older, if that was possible.  
  
        “Yes, it was _that_ alarming,” he sighed. He ran a nervous hand through his curls. “Everything about you normally is just a little bit alarming, and then something like _that_ happens. I almost had a panic attack.”  
  
        “You sounded pretty calm,” I commented, laughing at his expression.  
  
        “There was a room full of people,” he said, smiling in spite of himself. “I had to make sure they wouldn’t think I was crazy.”  
  
        “Oh, you,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Thinking of others again.” He laughed and pulled the covers down. I slid under them and he followed after. When we were all settled, he was laying on his back with one arm behind his head and the other around me. I was on my side, right up against him.  
  
        “Did you ever date anyone when you were human?”  
  
        “What?” he laughed, looking down at me. “Why?”  
  
        “You never talk about your life before…all this,” I said, gesturing at his body. “But you were…what, twenty three when it happened? Was there someone before you changed species?” This was something I was very curious to hear about. Nathan closed his eyes and settled his head back against his arm.  
  
        “I was twenty five,” he replied. “And there was one woman. That’s it.”  
  
        “Just one?” I laughed. “Seriously, only one in twenty five years?”  
  
        “Yes, and she was pretty serious,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “Not as serious as you, but kind of a big deal.”  
  
        “How big of a big deal?” I pressed.  
  
        “Like, I-was-married-to-her-big,” he sighed.  
  
        “What?” I was entirely shocked. I’d never expected to hear that he’d been married. “What was she like?”  
  
        “She was a person,” he replied simply. “She was older than me.”  
  
        “How old were you when you got married?”  
  
        “Twenty,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “We were divorced in less than two years. She wasn’t very good to me.”  
  
        “Well, I’m sorry about that,” I sighed, hugging his waist a little. He grinned at me.  
  
        “You’re much nicer than her, even at your worst. I know that much for certain.”  
  
        “What does that mean?” I laughed. “What don’t you know for certain?”  
  
        “Mostly everything,” he replied. “I don’t remember who her parents were, why I liked her, _if_ I liked her, why I said yes, where we lived….any of it.”  
  
        “Why you said yes?” I asked. “She proposed to you?”  
  
        “Yes,” he laughed. “I know that. She proposed to me, but we told everyone that it was the other way around. Back then it was strictly unheard of for a woman to propose to a man. But other than the proposal, there’s not much else in here,” he said, tapping his head. “I didn't get to keep many of my memories as a human.”  
  
        “I thought you never forgot anything.”  
  
        “As a vampire,” he clarified. “Vampires can see and hear and smell much more exactly than a human; so much so that, now, anything I remember from my human life looks very foggy and sounds muffled. It’s a lot of work to save fog.”  
  
        “Hmm,” I murmured. I’d never really considered that there’d be a difference in memories.  
  
        “Was there anyone before _your_ ex?” He asked casually. I shook my head distractedly and I think I mumbled something about “just stupid grade school boyfriends…” I was still thinking about his memory gap. Then something occurred to me: he’d been married at age twenty.  
  
        “You were twenty five when you were changed?” I asked, looking back up at him. He was looking at me already; it seemed like he’d been staring the whole time.  
  
        “Yeah, that’s when Viktor found me,” he replied.  
  
        “How old was he when _he_ was changed? Who changed him?” I continued. “And what is he like? Where is he? Why aren’t you with him?”  
  
        “I thought we’d already covered this,” he sighed, now looking away. “We already talked about Viktor.”  
  
        “No, you told me that he’s kind of your dad, he drinks human blood, he was part of the Volturi, you joined with him, you both left, and then you ditched him,” I recited, listing the facts on my fingers. “We didn’t cover _this_.” He smiled a little, but his posture changed.  
  
        “Fine,” he grunted. “Let’s talk about Vik. How old was he when he was turned? He can’t remember; our guess is mid to late forties. He was changed accidentally by a nomad. He was supposed to have been a meal, but the one that changed him ran off before he’d finished the job. The only thing he remembers of his human life was being attacked.”  
  
        “Okay, good,” I encouraged. “Keep going. I think I asked about ten more things.”  
  
        “You asked three more,” he replied. “What is he like? He’s cold. He’s militant. He doesn’t make friends easily. But he’s fiercely loyal and he’s protective. However, if he doesn’t like something, he makes no effort to understand it. That brings us to the next question: where is he? I don’t know. I don’t care to know. He has a P.O. box in Europe and that’s where I send my letters when I move. I have his phone number, but I’ve never called and neither has he. And why am I not with him? Because I can’t stand him.” Nathan was staring straight ahead; his nostrils were flaring with every breath and his eyes were so angry, I was sure his look was singeing a hole in the door across the room. I’d never seen him like this. I’d never seen anyone like this.  
  
        “Nathan,” I asked quietly. “What did he do to you?”  
  
        “He turned me into a show pony,” he growled. “I was his prized possession and he made sure to show me off to everyone. But I’ll never forgive him for—ugh.” He tore himself out of the bed and started pacing around the room.  
  
        “For what?”  
  
        “He fed me human blood,” he hissed. “He tricked me and fed me someone I knew. He doesn’t understand why I don’t kill humans, why I can’t. He never cared to learn why. He just figured it wasn’t as important as I made it seem.” He was staring out the window and had his back to me. I got out of the bed and went to him, gently rubbing his arms.  
  
        “You still love him a lot, don’t you?” I murmured, resting my head on his back. He sighed massively. “I thought so. It hurts when the people we love don’t understand us. But, if you honestly didn’t care about him, it wouldn’t bother you this much.”  
  
        “You’re remarkably perceptive for a human,” he laughed quietly. “And I don’t know if I love him. Is it possible to love someone and want to strangle them?”  
  
        “Yes,” I replied. “From what I’ve seen, it is most common among siblings, specifically sisters, but I would guess it’s applicable elsewhere.” He laughed again and turned around, bending to kiss my forehead.  
  
        “Bed,” he commanded quietly.  
  
        “Can’t,” I replied. “It’s too hot.”  
  
        “You’re impossible,” he chuckled before picking me up and putting me in the bed himself. He immediately climbed in behind me and curled around my body, hugging me to him.  
  
        “Cool enough?” He asked teasingly.  
  
        “Getting there,” I replied. “Now shush. How can you expect me to sleep with all this racket?” He laughed quietly once more and let me go to sleep. I had vague dreams about walking around with a pregnant belly so big that I carried it in a wheel barrow and Nathan telling me, ‘I don’t want to pressure you, but it’s been twenty nine months. Are you ready yet?’  
  
        When I woke up, the quilts had been pulled down and folded neatly at the foot of the bed, leaving me covered by just a sheet so I wouldn’t get overheated; honestly, Nathan was one of the most considerate people I’d ever met. But still, where was he? I climbed out of bed, noticing that the light coming through the window was starting to dim now, so I’d probably been sleeping for most of the day. I changed out of my sleep clothes and into some jean shorts and a tank top and went down stairs.  
  
        “Good morning, or, well, afternoon,” Papá laughed when I came into the kitchen. “You look much better hija. How are you feeling?”  
  
        “Good,” I replied distractedly. “Where’s Nathan?”  
  
        “Outside,” Papá said. His tone had shifted.  
  
        “What’s he doing out there?” I asked. Papá looked very tense.  
  
        “He’s sitting by the tree,” he replied, taking me to the window. “He’s been out there all day. He won’t come back in. It’s weird.”  
  
        I looked out into the little back yard and saw Manuel and Frida’s kids running around; Manuel was at the grill making dinner with his wife Holly; Mamá was weeding her garden; Lidia was reading on the porch while Abuela knitted next to her; Abuelo was shelling peas and Doña Luisa seemed to be criticizing his work; and then there was poor Nathan, sitting in the shade of a big maple tree, stranded in the otherwise sunny yard.  
  
        “How did he end up out there?” I asked, trying not to smile.  
  
        “Maria asked him to help in her garden,” Papá replied. “She wanted to do her usual nosing around in your life.”  
  
        “Oh, naturally,” I laughed. “And she had him out for a long time, didn’t she?”  
  
        “Yes.”  
  
        “And he probably asked if they could go back in a few times, right?”  
  
        “Yes.”  
  
        “And she didn’t let him.”  
  
        “No.” Papá seemed very confused now. “How did you know all that?”  
  
        “It’s just one of those…things, you know?” How on earth could I explain that Nathan was a vampire without saying Nathan was a vampire? “Everyone has their…quirks, and that’s one of Nathan’s. He’s kind of…well, he’s like…hang on, I need to go talk to him.” And I hurried outside leaving a very stunned father in the kitchen.  
  
        “Nathan,” I called, jogging over. He smiled and waved as I approached. “You poor thing. Have you been trapped here all day?”  
  
        “Mostly,” he sighed as I knelt down by his legs. He reached up to help me; the baby bump was already making things difficult. “I wanted to go back up and lay with you,” he continued once I was settled. “I like to listen to this when you sleep.” He touched a finger to my belly.  
  
        “Thanks for taking off the blankets,” I replied, still not sure how to take the fact that he could hear my child’s heartbeat inside me.  
  
        “I wanted you to be comfortable,” he said with a smile. “You really did need sleep. You’re looking better now though; not so worn out. How are you feeling?”  
  
        “Rested,” I sighed as he tucked my hair behind my ear. I shook it back into place. He rolled his eyes and then ran a hand through my hair, loosening the waves and then arranging them into my side part the way I liked it.  
  
        “Picky, picky,” he teased as I checked over his handiwork. “I don’t think your family is as warm to me as we’d hoped they’d be,” he continued, now a little more serious. We’d already been speaking quietly so no one else could hear, but he dropped his volume even lower. “They know something’s wrong with me.”  
  
        “Nothing is _wrong_ with you,” I groaned. “You’re exactly the way you should be. It’s just not human is all.”  
  
        “Yes, well, I’m not sure if you know this but for most people, the fact that I’m not human is kind of a big deal,” he said sarcastically. “What are we going to do?”  
  
        “I don’t know,” I replied with a shrug. “I tried a little explanation with my dad a second ago. The best I could come up with is that you’re quirky.”  
  
        “Yes, freezing skin, not entering sunlight, and not eating are just a few of my endearing little quirks,” he replied flatly. “We have _got_ to do better.”  
  
        “You come up with something,” I snapped. “I’m not much of a multi-tasker and I need to focus my energy on making a person.”  
  
        “You’re _impossible_ ,” he laughed, dropping his face into his hands. “I _had_ to get the one human that is as bull headed as me.”  
  
        “I’m not bull headed,” I protested. “I’m feisty. And what if we just told them? Flat out said hey, you’re a vamp—” His head shot up and he looked extremely panicked.  
  
        “No,” he said immediately. “No. That is not an option. We are not telling them.”  
  
        “Could we _kind of_ tell them?” I asked, forming a vague plan. “Like, not the big idea. We’ll just be like, okay, Nathan doesn’t eat and he doesn’t sleep, and he’s kind of a housecat.”  
  
        “You don’t think that will raise questions?” He asked.  
  
        “I think that that my family will trust me,” I replied. “And if I ask them not to dive any deeper, I think they’ll honor it. Well, no, they’ll definitely pry, but if we shoot them down for the first few days, _then_ they’ll honor it.” He narrowed his eyes at me.  
  
        “This is nuts,” he muttered. “But I haven’t got anything better. I guess we’ll do it. But leave out the sleep thing; we want to give them as little to worry about as possible and I can fake that one. I can fake eating too.”  
  
        “I thought it comes back up?”  
  
        “It does.”  
  
        “Isn’t that like…uncomfortable? And are you fully aware of how much food you’d be committing to eating on a daily basis?”  
  
        He grimaced. “Okay, let’s tell them I don’t eat. Let’s just really freak them out.”  
  
        “Hola, hija,” my mom said, hurrying over. “Nathan’s been keeping me company out here all day. Isn’t that nice? But, why don’t you take him in the house so he can get something to drink?”  
  
        “Now’s not a great time for that,” I said casually. “We’ll go inside in a little bit.”  
  
        “Not a great time?” She laughed. “What’s not great? Now, go on. Go in the house.”  
  
        “Mom,” I said, now suddenly getting angry. “Stop it. He’s not going in right now.” She seemed shocked; so did Nathan.  
  
        “Aeva, calm down,” he cooed, taking my hand. He was standing over me; I had stood up to face my mother without realizing it. Nathan just kept speaking gently. “She doesn’t know what’s wrong.”  
  
        “What _is_ wrong?” She asked curiously.  
  
        “There’s nothing wrong with him,” I snapped.  
  
        “Aeva, honey, this is your mother you’re talking to,” Nathan warned. “She deserves a more respectful tone than that and I’m not worth starting a fight with her for.” I stared up at him, entirely shocked. He was worth _anything_.  
  
        “Hija, Nathan, what is going on?” Mamá demanded. “I think I _deserve_ to know what’s going on in my own home and what kind of person my daughter is living with.”  
  
        “Nathan...” I began, glancing at him again.  
  
        “Go ahead,” he replied, urging me to go ahead with the plan. I nodded.  
  
        “Okay,” I said slowly, looking back at my mother. “You might as well get everyone out here, because I’m only going to explain this once.” Of course, I hadn’t needed to say that because all of my naturally nosy family, aside from Doña Luisa, had already assembled in the yard in a semi-circle around us.  
  
        “Well, go on,” Manuel said, eyeing Nathan who was still standing right behind me.  
  
        “Well first of all,” I began, “He’s good to me and I really care about him. That’s why none of this bothers me and why none of it should bother you. You see, Nathan is…different. He’s not bad, he’s not wrong, he’s just different.”  
  
        “How?” Frida asked, cocking her head.  
  
        “He prefers the shade,” I explained. “It’s not that he can’t go into the sun, that’s entirely over dramatic. He just prefers the shade. Also, he doesn’t eat.”  
  
        “What?” Papá demanded.  
  
        “No, no explanation,” I replied quickly. “Nothing more than the bare facts. That’s all you need.”  
  
        “Please, just trust us on that,” Nathan agreed. “I’m letting you know as much as I can. I prefer the shade. I don’t eat. I’ll never look any different than I do now.”  
  
        “But he’s safe,” I interjected, before anyone else could speak. “He’s gentle, he’s affectionate, he’s intelligent, he’s funny: He’s a good man. And no matter what you say, he’s not going anywhere.”  
  
        They all just stared at us; mostly at Nathan. No one seemed to know what to say. Nathan was looking right at me with this immensely proud face. I couldn’t help but laugh at him and he rolled his eyes. That seemed to snap them out of it.  
  
        “You trust him?” Tío Carlos asked. I nodded. “You told her everything?” He demanded, glaring at Nathan.  
  
        “Of course,” he laughed. “She knows all of it.”  
  
        “Then okay,” Tío said gruffly. “Okay.”  
  
        “What?” asked Papá. “Hermano, you of all people should be against this!”  
  
        “Why?” Tío demanded. “Because he’s such a bad person? He’s taking care of her. He brought her home. He really seems like a terrible kind of man to have around. Besides, they told us, didn’t they?”  
  
        “Yeah, told us Nathan is way beyond abnormal,” Miguelito scoffed.  
  
        “Would you rather they had lied?” Tío Carlos laughed. “Would you rather Aeva live with someone like him and us _not_ know about it? He had cajones enough to let us know. And yeah, it’s pretty obvious they’re not giving us the whole story, but who cares? Aeva clearly knows the ins and outs of whatever this thing with him is; she’s a smart girl. If she’s willing to trust him based on everything she knows, I’ll trust him based on the little bit I know.”  
  
        “Jaime, what is wrong with you?” Abuela demanded, smacking my father’s arm. “Your brother Carlos has one boy. You’ve got four kids, _three girls_! Why is he the one that’s got daughters figured out?”  
  
        “Mamá,” my father whined. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. What if he isn’t safe?”  
  
        “Shut up, chiquito” Doña Lusia yelled from her spot on the porch. “Leave the boy alone or I’ll kill you.”  
  
        “Does she know any other threats than that one?” Nathan asked quietly.  
  
        “Not that we can tell,” Miguelito shrugged. Then his eyes went wide as he realized he’d just been civil with the enemy. He glanced at my brother and Manuel stepped forward, dragging his wife with him.  
  
        “This is Holly,” he said clearly. “This is my wife. She’s the last member of the family you had to meet. Holly, this is Nathan.”  
  
        “It’s nice to meet you,” Nathan said, putting a hand out. Holly glanced down at it nervously and then grasped it, just with her fingertips, as though it might burn her. When she realized it wasn’t dangerous, she took a firmer grip and gave it a shake.  
  
        “Your hands are cold,” she commented as they released.  
  
        “Just another one of those things,” I said quickly. “It’s just how he is.”  
  
        “It’s just how you are, huh?” Manuel asked, giving Nathan one last look from head to toe. “Alright, fine. It’s just how you are.”  
  



	10. Welcomed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nice to fit in for a change.

###  _Nathan_

                “It’s just how you are, huh?” He’d asked. “Alright, fine. That’s just how you are.” I couldn’t stop replaying it over and over and over in my head. I was jittery with excitement; they were fine with me. Aeva’s whole family was okay with me being with her. I’d never been happier.  
  
         “Would you sit _still_?” Aeva asked, watching me dart around the room again.  
  
         “I can’t,” I laughed. “I’m too excited.” I was at the window. I was at the closet. I was standing on the bed, looking down at her. “This is great.”  
  
         “You are a loser,” she said flatly, making an L on her forehead, but smiling up at me. I made an L right back.  
  
         “Ay, hermanita!” Manuel shouted, bursting into the room. I’d heard him coming, but I’d been too happy to care. He just laughed when he saw what we were doing.  
  
         “I agree with Nathan,” he teased, also making an L at Aeva. “Now come on! Cena, cena, cena!” He disappeared from the door way and ran down the hall.  
  
         “What is ‘cena,’ like, food?” I asked, hopping lightly to the floor. Aeva climbed down beside me.  
  
         “No, food is comida, but comida is also lunch,” she replied as we started walking. “Cena is dinner. It can also mean ‘eat dinner,’ like you’re telling someone to do it.”  
  
         “And which way did Manuel mean it?”  
  
         “I don’t know!” She laughed. “But either way, obviously it’s dinner time.”  
  
         “Cena!” Cheered a little boy, running up to us with his arms in the air.  
  
         “Yes, dinner, Chuy!” Aeva giggled, picking up her nephew. “How much are you going to eat?”  
  
         “All of it,” he replied, patting his tummy. “Tengo _mucho_ hambre!”  
  
         “I bet,” she laughed back as we entered the kitchen. The room was organized chaos. The first thing that hit us was a wall of scent; hot baked bread, chilis, onions, garlic, peppers, chicken, and some smells I couldn’t recognize. Shocking as it was to me, they’d managed to wedge furniture into the room along with the thick, scented air. A long table had been set up right in the middle of the room with mismatched chairs jammed in on each side. Huge platters of steaming, pungent food were arranged down the middle of the table, with plates and cups of varying sizes and styles all around them. Some of the family was already seated, but most were struggling around in the little space that was left over to get to a chair. Aeva swung Chuy into the air, flipping his legs over the back of a seat and dropping him down into it. Frida smiled gratefully at her sister as she took the chair beside her son, arranging Lupe on her lap. Aeva took my hand and led me gently down and around the far side of the table to two rather dangerous looking old chairs. I pulled one out and offered it to her and then sat down on her left.  
  
         “Do that for me!” Holly demanded, playfully shoving Manuel’s shoulder. He was already sitting down, but stood and pulled out Holly’s chair with a flourish and a bow. His mother clapped for him and his daughter Mercedes ran forward and stole the seat he’d vacated.  
  
         “Hey, hey, hey!” He laughed, ruffling her hair. “That was mine, hijita.”  
  
         “I thought you pulled it out for me,” the little girl replied with a grin. The entire table roared with laughter as Manuel sat down in the next chair over. The rest of the family crowded in and when Lidia came shyly over, I pulled out the chair on my other side and smiled at her.  
  
         “Thanks,” she mumbled, scrambling into the seat. She had to do a sort of awkward crawl over Miguelito’s legs to get in, but once she was sitting down, I slid the chair forward again for her.  
  
         “So, Nathan,” Maria said from the head of the table where she was sitting beside Aeva’s father. “Do you, ah, want anything? I mean, I figured you wouldn’t eat anything we’re having, but, is there something we could get for you?”  
  
         “No, but thank you for the offer,” I said, smiling a little. “I’m happy to just soak in the conversation.”  
  
         “I don’t know how much you’ll be able to soak in,” Carlos laughed. “You don’t probably don’t know enough Spanish.”  
  
         “He’s learning!” Aeva protested. “I taught him cena and comida on the way down here.”  
  
         “Wow,” Miguelito said flatly. “He’s a prodigy.” Aeva grabbed a bun from the bowl in front of her and flung it at him. He caught it and bit it in half, shaking the part in his mouth like a dog with a toy. Aeva made a move to grab him, but was hit in the face by a pinto bean flicked by her mother.  
  
         “Not at the table!” Maria hissed. “And Miguel, we don’t eat until we say grace!” Miguelito bowed his head and spit the chuck of bread onto his plate. Everyone then joined hands and bowed their heads. Jaime stood, said a prayer in Spanish, and when he sat down again, everyone dove for the food. There was much yelling and passing of dishes and seasonings but soon enough, everyone seemed to have enough of everything on their plates and they all started talking. Abuela had seated herself on Aeva’s other side and the pair were deep in discussion about how stupid plastic surgery was. I didn’t understand much of it, because they would flit in and out of English, but I was happy to eavesdrop on them, one arm draped around the back of Aeva’s chair. After a while, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I glanced to my left to find Lidia staring.  
  
         “So, why don’t you eat?” She asked. Everyone else was too busy and too loud to have heard her. I smiled.  
  
         “I just don’t.”  
  
         “You have to eat _something_ ,” she sighed. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be classified as living. Eating is a characteristic of life.”  
  
         “Plants don’t eat,” I replied, cocking my head.  
  
         “They photosynthesize.”  
  
         “Maybe I do too,” I laughed. “Maybe I filter feed.”  
  
         “Or maybe you just don’t want to say what you eat.”  
  
         “Maybe.”  
  
         “Is that a big, ‘yes’ maybe?” She asked, brightening a little. “Or like, a ‘no probably not’ maybe?”  
  
         “It's a maybe.”  
  
        She glared at me in a very Aeva-ish manner and turned back to her plate.  
  
         “What are _you_ eating?” I asked, examining her food.  
  
         “This is a tamale,” she replied, poking a little corn husk wrapped bundle. “This is arroz con pollo,” she continued, swirling her fork over the yellow rice with chicken and peppers mixed in. “We also have, like, this bean stuff,” she said, jabbing a mix of black, white, and red beans. It also had corn, peas, and peppers in it. “And then there’s like, normal food; bread and roast potatoes and stuff.”  
  
         “What makes the bread and potatoes normal food?” I asked curiously.  
  
         “It’s what everyone else eats.”  
  
         “So, it’s normal for everyone else,” I laughed. “I think the tamales are a much more exciting normal than anyone else’s.”  
  
         “What is your normal?” she asked, obviously hoping to catch me off guard.  
  
         “Filter feeding,” I replied seriously. She rolled her eyes.  
  
         “Fine, don’t tell me what you eat,” she huffed. “But tell me _something_. Where did you grow up? Where were you born?”  
  
         “Germany,” I replied. This made her stare at me again. “I moved away with my adoptive father and spent some time in Italy.”  
  
         “You’re adopted?” Lidia said, now more curious than ever. “Who’s your dad? What’s his name? Where’s he from?”  
  
         “You’re just like Aeva,” I laughed, remembering our very similar conversation. “My father is named Viktor; Viktor Evanov. He’s from Russia.”  
  
         “Your last name is Evanov?” She gasped. “That’s so cool!”  
  
         “I sometimes go by Evanov, yes,” I sighed. “My original last name was Wulff; generally I use that.”  
  
         “Voolf?” She said, wrinkling her nose.  
  
         “No, it’s not a voo sound,” I laughed. “It’s vuh. Vuh-lff. Wulff.”  
  
         “Wait, what is your full name?”  
  
         “Nataniel Björn Evanov-Wulff.”  
  
         “Woah, woah, woah,” she laughed, putting her hands up. “One more time.” I repeated it slowly and phonetically.  
  
         “Nat-an-yuhll Byoorn Evan-off Vuh-lff.”  
  
         “What does that mean?” Miguelito asked, having just heard the last bit. “Is it like, Hungarian or something?”  
  
         “No, it’s his name,” Lidia replied smartly. “And it’s German, but Evanov is Russian; it’s his adoptive father’s name.” She had succeeded in getting _everyone_ to stare at me.  
  
         “Your first name in _Nat_ aniel?” Jaime snorted. “Why go by Nathan then?”  
  
         “It’s easier,” I shrugged. “In America, Nathaniel sounds more natural than Nataniel.”  
  
         “Would they call you Natan in Germany?” Manuel laughed.  
  
         “No, they’d use my full name,” I replied. “Nataniel. But, I prefer Nathan. The only person that still calls me Nataniel is Viktor, my father.”  
  
         “And he’s Russian?” Asked Abuela.  
  
         “Yes, from Moscow.”  
  
         “How old were you when you were adopted?” Carlos inquired. Aeva answered for me.  
  
         “A lot younger than he is now. Neither of them are exactly sure how old.”  
  
         “I see,” Maria said, nodding. “And do you remember much of Germany?”  
  
         “I remember an old girlfriend,” I said, smiling a little down at Aeva.  
  
         “Really?” Jamie asked, now dropping his slightly cold attitude. “Do you remember your birth family at all? Your father or your mother?”  
  
         “I remember my mother a little,” I sighed. “I only know what I was told about my father. His name was Björn; it’s where I get my middle name. He died when my sister and I were very young. And then I lost my mother and then my sister too. Viktor found me not long after that.”  
  
         “I’m so sorry,” Frida whispered. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” Everyone was very quiet. Aeva caught my eye and I could see on her face that she was shocked. I’d skipped over my life as a human up until that point, but surrounded by a family like I was, suddenly it wasn’t so hard to talk about.  
  
         “Your English is very good,” Carlos stated, trying to break the awkward silence. It seemed to work because everyone fell into mini conversations about my speaking and then branched off into whatever interested them more. Lidia was still looking at me.  
  
         “Did you eat your family?” She whispered. Aeva choked as she laughed into her drink, apparently having heard this.  
  
         “No,” I chuckled. “I told you, I filter feed.”  
  
         “Fine, ‘filter feeding’ is code for whatever you actually do,” she sighed. “But you don’t age either?”  
  
         “Not recently,” I said, slowly growing more uncomfortable.  
  
         “So how old are you?”  
  
         “Twenty-five,” Aeva replied. “He’s just going to wait on aging until I catch up to him.”  
  
         “Yeah, _okay_ ,” Lidia snorted. “Sure, he’s waiting. And he filter feeds. But, you don’t like the sun, hm? What are you, a vampire?” I laughed reflexively; it was the immediate reaction I _had_ to have to a good guess. To my immense relief, Aeva laughed too.  
  
         “Yeah, he’s a _vampire_ ,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Haven’t you ever ready _any_ stories? They’re evil, they have fangs, they sleep during the day, they turn into bats, they have coffins, they’re allergic to garlic, etcetera, etcetera. Nathan doesn’t exactly fit the bill, hon.”  
  
         “No, he doesn’t,” Lidia agreed sullenly. I sighed massively and she looked up.  
  
         “I have to confess,” I said seriously. “I can’t keep it a secret anymore. I don’t eat because I’m hollow. I don’t age because I’m synthetic. I can’t go in direct sunlight because I’ll melt. Lidia, I’m a living Ken doll.” Aeva nodded solemnly and we held our composure for a few seconds longer before we burst out laughing.  
  
         “You guys suck,” Lidia grumbled, though she was smiling too. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”  
  
         “Do _not_ insult the Barbie franchise,” I huffed. Lidia laughed again and dinner went on without any more complications. When the meal was over, everyone got up and the men left to go into the living room while the women started clearing up the dishes. Aeva reached forward to pick up the huge platter the tamales had been on, but I grabbed her hands and pulled her around so that she was holding on to my waist.  
  
         “What are you doing?” She laughed as I reached over her and took the plate.  
  
         “I’m saving you hard labor,” I replied, grinning at her. She put her hands on either side of my face and pulled me down into a kiss. I smiled into it and she slid her hands down to my chest; I was holding her a little awkwardly, sort of with my elbows, because I had the dish in my hands. Aeva suddenly broke the kiss and made a grab for it, but I was too quick for her and snatched her up under one arm, holding the platter out of her reach.  
  
         “Nathan!” She shrieked, laughing and kicking. “Give me the plate! Let me do it!”  
  
         “No! Never,” I laughed, putting it into the sink and then finally setting her down. “Do _not_ make this difficult for me.”  
  
         “Would you just go sit in the living room like the other guys?”  
  
         “And leave you here to wash things? Are you crazy?” I said in mock panic. “No, no, no. You can’t do dishes. You have to focus your energy on making a person.”  
  
         “How dare you use my words against me,” she laughed. “Besides, I’m a better dish washer than you are.”  
  
         “Oh, you think so?” I said, stepping up to her.  
  
         “It’s on,” she growled. “Right now. We’re racing.”  
  
         “You’re going to lose.”  
  
         “Not a chance, blondie.” And she dashed past me, grabbing four cups at once. I was right behind her, snatching any plate I could reach. I was painfully careful to keep my movements believably slow and the other women stepped back and cheered as we went. I cheated blatantly by repeatedly picking Aeva up and moving her out of the way. Finally, we had all the dishes in the sink and we were both washing furiously.  
  
         “Liddy!” Aeva shouted. “Come dry for me!” Her sister ran to her side with a towel in hand.  
  
         “Cheater!” I laughed, glancing over my shoulder. “Frida! Help me!” Frida laughed and came forward as well. In roughly five minutes, we had everything washed and dried and Aeva, Lidia, and Frida were all panting from effort. I set about counting dishes.  
  
         “Team Nathan and Frida,” I announced, “had twenty. Team Aeva and Lidia had twenty one. They win.” Aeva and Lidia cheered and Frida just laughed.  
  
         “Good effort,” she said, patting my arm. “I need to go lay down.” She headed into the living room and the rest of us followed. Aeva came up and lifted my arm over her head, draping it around her shoulders. I bent and kissed her head while she directed me to one vacant spot on the couch.  
  
         “You take it,” she instructed. “I’ll go bring in a chair from the kitchen.” I sat down and before she could leave, grabbed one of her hands and pulled her onto my lap. She just laughed and leaned back against my chest. She was feather light to me, but her body heat was already burning through my clothes.  
  
         “You two are sweet.” Frida was sitting on the ground with Lupe and Chuy piled into her lap. She was smiling up at us with her head cocked. “Like, seriously cute together.”  
  
         “What do you mean?” I asked, grinning awkwardly.  
  
         “Like how you played around in the kitchen,” she laughed. “And now you’re sitting together like that. You’re just cute.”  
  
         “They were playing around on Aeva’s bed earlier,” Manuel said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Aeva likes the way Nathan works his fingers.”  
  
         “Qué asco!” Aeva yelled, elbowing him in the chest. He was sitting right next to us.  
  
         “What was going on up there?” Jaime asked sternly, looking from me to his daughter.  
  
         “Ow, Aeva, ow!” Manuel half laughed, half shrieked as she pinched any part of him within reach. She got hold of his nipple and twisted hard. “OUCH, YOU LITTLE DEMON!” He roared, prying her hand off. He pulled up his shirt to reveal angry red blotches all over his skin and a rather swollen and slightly purple nipple.  
  
         “Text book purple nurple. Well done,” Miguelito praised. Everyone else seemed entirely unconcerned by the little fight; apparently it was quite normal.  
  
        The whole family stayed up for a few hours more while Spanish game shows flashed on the TV screen. No one really seemed to be watching though. Mostly they were talking, and occasionally arguing, while the little kids chased each other around the room. They would jump over legs and sometimes step on people and no one seemed to care. Everyone in the family seemed entirely content to let the kids run rampant. Around nine o’clock, though, Frida stood up and caught both of her kids mid-sprint.  
  
         “I’m taking them to bed,” she announced, walking to the stairs with a child under each arm.  
  
         “Yeah, we should probably take Mercedes too,” Holly sighed. She patted Manuel’s leg and stood up. Manuel picked up his daughter and the three of them went off to bed. The room slowly began to empty out and Aeva and I returned to her room. I was still rather amused by her battered, purple door.  
  
         “So, sir,” she said over her shoulder as she changed for bed. “What are you planning to do all night?”  
  
         “Listen,” I replied, taking my shirt off and throwing it to her. She stared at me for a moment before tossing it into the hamper. I noticed her cheeks were slightly redder than before and grinned to myself; Aeva like the way I looked. She pulled a sleep shirt over her head and then switched out her shorts for pajama bottoms.  
  
         “Are you staying in jeans?” She asked, glancing back at me.  
  
         “Um, no,” I said, looking down at myself. “No, I’ll change.” Aeva climbed into her bed and I went to the dresser, stepping over piles of drawings and paints, and pulled out a pair of athletic shorts. I put them on and then walked to the bed myself. Aeva had the covers pulled back and was just looking at me.  
  
         “Thanks for bringing me home,” she said quietly. I crawled under the blankets and she settled against me.  
  
         “Aeva,” I whispered. “Thank you for bringing me along. Your family is…fantastic.”  
  
         “Do you honestly like them?”  
  
         “Yes,” I laughed. “They’re amazing.”  
  
         “You’re easily impressed,” she mumbled, reaching a hand back and turning off the lamp. I waited patiently for Aeva to fall asleep, my arms around her little body. She laid there in complete silence, one hand tracing designs across my chest. Finally, I heard the change in her breathing that meant she was drifting off and her hand fell still. And there it was, clear as ever— _Thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum-thrum_ —the baby’s heartbeat. Aeva’s stomach was pressed against mine and I imagined that I could feel the heartbeat, though I obviously couldn’t. For all the jokes we made about it, Aeva actually _was_ making a person. I set my hand against her belly. What would happen when the baby wasn’t just a bump under Aeva’s shirt? When it wasn’t just a heartbeat?  
  
        Would Aeva want me to stay with her, to _raise_ it with her? What if the baby interrupted what we had going? What if it ruined my chance with Aeva? I already knew what I felt for her: I loved her. It seemed odd to me that I could be so certain of it when I’d never felt it before, but I was sure it was love. And, having waited for over two hundred and fifty years, I was ready to accept it and dive in without hesitation. But Aeva needed time.  
  
        She had thought she’d been in love once and he’d disappeared; Jason hadn’t deserved her and he hadn’t been worth her time, but he’d left her with a very deep scar. She would be scared of love for a long time. The idea of falling in love with me must be terrifying to her; I’d come along so quickly. But I knew she felt safe with me; I could hear it in her heart rate when I held her. I knew she enjoyed me; it wasn’t as if I pleaded with her to let me sleep shirtless in her bed. (Though I wasn’t complaining) She just needed time, but what would happen if the baby came before she’d had enough? Every day with her, I only became more and more certain that I loved her and felt it deeper and deeper. If she told me to leave after nine months of that, I wasn’t sure I would be _able_ to leave. I could _maybe_ leave now, but it would be incredibly difficult.  
  
        But what if she wanted me to stay? Of course I would do it, but I wasn’t sure I could help her with the baby. It was difficult enough to handle a regular human, but I’d practiced it; a baby would only be even _more_ difficult. And what if Aeva wanted me to change her? If it would only be me and her, I would do it. But here we were, lying in a house full of her family members and soon, her little baby would be added to that number. I couldn’t change her unless she could give it up; after all, she would never forgive herself for hurting her family and I would never forgive myself for giving her the means to do it.  
  
        I could wait for her. I wouldn’t mind staying with her for the rest of her human life if only she would have me. The thought sent an oddly calm feeling through my body; just as I was sure I loved Aeva, I knew that I would stay with her and that she would stay human. It seemed blissfully simple and I had a moment of pure perfection, just lying with Aeva in my arms.  
  
        After about three or four hours, she rolled over. Free from her heat and that bath-water-syndrome, I found I was able to move again. I sat up and rolled the blankets down to the very end of the bed, leaving only a sheet over Aeva’s sleeping form, and got to my feet. I picked up the nearest sketchbook and noiselessly tore out a blank sheet. I took the page over to the messy desk in the corner and, clearing a little space for myself, scribbled out a message.  
  
**Viktor,  
  
        I’ve moved again. I’m in Allentown, Pennsylvania with a new human. She is nineteen and has a baby on the way. When I found her, she was badly injured. We’re staying with her family for now, most likely for quite a while. We have managed to quell any of their questions. I’ll write again if we leave here.  
  
-Nathan**  
  
        I folded the letter up and left the room in complete silence, on the hunt for an envelope and a stamp. I found them in a drawer in the kitchen and addressed the letter before putting it out in the neighbor’s mailbox. They already had their letter flag up and I didn’t want to have Aeva’s family ask questions about me mailing letters in the middle of the night.  
  
        I was almost back to Aeva’s room, one door away, when I heard a quiet sob. It was obvious that whoever was crying was working very hard to stifle it, but there wasn’t much that I couldn’t hear. I hesitated in the hallway for a moment, hearing Aeva’s little double heartbeat in front of me and the sobbing behind me, before I turned around. I followed the crying to one of the black doors at the opposite end of the hall. Frida’s scent was incredibly thick here; it was her room. I took a breath and gave a soft knock on the door.  
  
         “Frida?”  
  
        The sobs stopped.  
  
         “I know you’re not asleep,” I said gently. Another moment of silence, then the quiet padding of bare feet on the wood floor. I watched the handle turn and the door slowly creaked open.  
  
         “What are you doing up?” Frida asked, wiping her eyes on the back of her sweat shirt sleeve.  
  
         “I couldn’t sleep,” I replied. “New house.”  
  
         “Oh, yeah,” she nodded. “Yeah, Manuel’s daughter had some trouble falling asleep too. She’s not used to it here either. Mine are fine though.” She opened the door a little wider to show the room behind her. She had lots of posters and pictures of friends on her wall and her furniture had all been painted powder blue. Far to the right was her bed, not a canopy like Aeva’s, but fairly large. Chuy’s little face was poking out of the pile of blankets and Lupe was fast asleep in a play pen at the side of the bed. Frida sniffed again.  
  
         “Are you alright?” I asked, looking down at her. She was thinner than Aeva, more reedy, and she looked particularly tiny in her giant sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. She caught me looking.  
  
         “Oh, these are Miguelito’s,” she laughed, shaking her sleeves. “He lent them to me; I haven’t done laundry in a while. And don’t worry about me, Nathan, I’m fine.” She hugged her arms around herself and looked down at her feet. I’d done it a thousand times to Aeva, so it was nothing to do it to Frida: I put my hand under her chin and lifted her face until she was looking right at me.  
  
         “Frida, what’s wrong?” I pressed, wiping a tear away with my thumb. She stared up at me for a few second before a huge sob rocked her frame and she fell forward into me, hugging me around my waist. I was a little taken aback, but I allowed her to cling to me, wrapping my arms loosely around her. She cried into my chest for about five minutes before she finally pulled away.  
  
         “Um, can you stay up with me?” She asked quietly.  
  
         “Of course I can,” I replied. “Let’s go sit in the living room though. We don’t want to wake those two.” I nodded at the open door behind her and she closed it, smiling at her kids. I followed her down the stairs and set in for a rather long night.  
  
   



	11. Loved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always two sets of in-laws to worry about

###  _Aeva_

               I woke up in gently; the sun was coming in through my scarf curtains and the light shone soft and red behind my eyelids. I breathed deeply and I could smell Nathan in my hair. The thought made me grin as I rolled over to say good morning to him and—he wasn’t there. I opened my eyes and sat up. Again, he’d rolled the blankets down to the bottom of the bed. Rather than seeing it as a cute gesture on his part, I realized that this meant he’d been gone for some time now. I whirled around to check my alarm clock on the night stand which, as usual, was blocked by one of my sculptures. I snatched the little rabbit out of the way and saw the time: 6:30 a.m.  
  
        What was I doing up at six thirty? More importantly, what was Nathan doing up at six thirty? I climbed out of bed and walked out of my room. I immediately noticed that Frida’s door was cracked open. I tip toed to over and peeked inside. Lupe and Chuy were in there, but no Frida.  
  
         “What are you doing?” The whisper made me jump and I whirled around to see Holly coming out of Manuel’s room.  
  
         “I was looking for Nathan,” I replied, clutching my thudding heart.  
  
         “In Frida’s room?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
         “The door was open. What are you doing awake any ways?”  
  
         “I have to pee,” she laughed, still in a whisper. “And your brother snores like a wildebeest.” As if on cue, Manuel let out a particularly loud snort from the room behind her.  
  
         “Come with me to find Nathan,” I whispered, taking her wrist. I could only hope that Manuel’s snoring had covered our whispers so that we could sneak up on him. Holly grinned and crept along behind me, flipping up her sweat shirt hood and tucking in her sandy hair so that she looked like a burglar. I stifled a laugh and we snuck down the stairs.  
  
         “Any guess where he is?” She asked peeking around the kitchen.  
  
         “Not really,” I replied. “Let’s check in here.” I took her hand again and we peered through the doorway and into the living room. Nathan and Frida were sitting on the couch together, Frida wrapped in a blanket cocoon and passed out entirely, and Nathan expertly feigning sleep. She was leaning against his shoulder—to my annoyance he was still bare chested—and there were wadded up tissues scattered all over the couch and floor.  
  
         “That is adorable,” Holly giggled in a whisper.  
  
         “Nathan!” I hissed. He opened his eyes and looked right at me. “Come here!” I mouthed. He nodded and gently extricated himself from the couch, hurrying over to us once he had.  
  
         “What are you two doing down here?” Holly asked. I had to appreciate the fact that she was staring hard at his face, obviously trying not to look at his body.  
  
         “She was up crying last night,” he replied. “I went to see what was wrong and we ended up here all night. She’s only been asleep for like, three or four hours.”  
  
         “What was she crying about?”  
  
         “She’s just having a rough time right now,” he shrugged. “Two kids on your own is tough.” I cast one more sad glance at Frida and felt deeply ashamed of myself. How could I sit here and throw a pity party about having been alone and pregnant for a little over three months when she’s been taking care of Chuy for three years, and Lupe for the past two.  
  
         “Let’s make breakfast,” I said suddenly, turning on my heel and jogging to the kitchen. Holly was right behind me, but Nathan seemed torn between wanting to check on Frida and wanting to help us.  
  
         “Let her sleep,” I urged. He nodded and then began chopping peppers and onions for omelets. We added sliced chorizo and Holly shredded potatoes for hash browns. It was about seven thirty when the family began to trickle down the stairs, drawn by the delicious scent of bacon and warm bell peppers. Mamá came and set the table while Holly and I served the food. Once everyone else was settled, I took Nathan’s hand and we went to wake Frida. Two very little, very sleepy looking people had beaten us to it. Chuy had climbed onto the couch and positioned his mother’s head in his lap. Lupe was standing in front of them, teddy bear clasped in one hand, and her other on Frida’s face.  
  
         “Mama,” she slurred from behind her pacifier. “Mama, up. Up, up, Mama.”  
  
         “Mommy,” Chuy said quietly, bending low over her ear. “Despiértate. Hay desayuno para ti.”  
  
         “What did he say?” Nathan whispered.  
  
         “Wake up,” I translated. “There’s breakfast for you.”  
  
         “Maaamaa!” sang Lupe, giving Frida a very firm pat on the cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled at the dark haired little girl.  
  
         “Good morning,” she croaked. “Should we go eat?” Chuy and Lupe cheered and Frida fought her way out of the blankets, swept her daughter up, and made her way to her usual spot at the table. She smiled tiredly at Nathan and I as she passed and we followed her, taking our places on the opposite side of the table. I was very distracted for the entire meal; I kept stealing glances at Frida and her kids while absent mindedly running a hand over my growing belly.  
  
        I’d never thought about how hard my sister’s life must be. She had tried for the longest time to live on her own with Chuy and Lupe, but she couldn’t manage it and had to come back home. Mamá and Papá certainly helped her take care of the kids, but it wasn’t the same as having a partner. I couldn’t imagine having two kids and being along like that. It must be excruciatingly difficult to date or to maintain a social life; kids scare men away. I thought the fact that I was pregnant would have scared Nathan away, but then again, he wasn’t just a man. What if I didn’t have him? I would be heading towards just as difficult a life as Frida. But where was the guarantee Nathan was going to stay? What had he told me before? _You’re as much a part of my future as I am_.  
  
        It sounded nice, but what man hadn’t made a promise like that to a woman?  
  
         “Do you feel alright?” Nathan whispered, putting his hand over mine as I stroked my tummy. “Do you feel sick? You’re not eating much.”  
  
         “Oh, no,” I laughed, shaking away my thoughts. “I was just zoning out. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
         “You were thinking,” he replied stoutly. “About your baby and Frida.”  
  
         “How did you—?”  
  
         “Not now. We’ll talk about it later.”  
  
         “Then we’re talking about the baby and Frida later too,” I murmured, getting just a little angry with him. He could see into my head, I knew it. Why hadn’t he told me this already? What else was he keeping from me?  
  
         “Aeva, Nathan,” Mamá called down to us. “Is everything alright?”  
  
         “Just perfect,” I said tartly, stabbing my omelet. Nathan put his head down and Mamá raised her eyebrows.  
  
         “Be nice, Estrella.”  
  
         “I _am_ nice,” I muttered stubbornly. Nathan laughed but quickly stopped when I shot him a glare. His flawless smile dropped and that crease reappeared between his eye brows. His honey eyes were locked on mine and he just looked so concerned. Suddenly, thin fingers were smoothing his worry lines and I was almost surprised to find that they were mine.  
  
         “Are you angry with me?” He asked, so quietly that I was the only one to hear it. I shook my head a little and slid my hands down his face, slowly tracing my fingertips across his lips. He was really a horrible distraction.  
  
         “No, I’m not angry, we just have some things to talk about,” I replied.  
  
         “Okay,” he said diligently, kissing my palm. “But eat first.” I rolled my eyes, but returned to my breakfast anyways. Once everyone was done, Mamá announced that because Holly, Nathan, and I had cooked, we didn’t have to clean up. Manuel and Miguelito were muttering profanities as they took up dish towels and we left the room. I took Nathan’s hand and led him upstairs, ducking into my room. I went and sat on the bed, but he stayed and looked at the door.  
  
         “Where did you get this?” He asked, running his hand across it.  
  
         “I saw it on the side of the road,” I explained. “Papá and I were coming home from a camping trip and I pointed it out. He put it in our truck and put it up for me.”  
  
         “I like it a lot,” he laughed, finally looking over at me. I was in no mood for him to be cute.  
  
         “Thanks,” I said coolly. “Now, I have some serious questions for you.”  
  
         “And what are they?” He sighed, coming over and sitting beside me.  
  
         “How did you know what I was thinking about?” I asked. “Do you read minds or something?”  
  
         “Or something,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird, but whenever you talk to me, I do a sort of involuntary background check. I’m constantly comparing what you’re saying to what really happened. It’s part of the history thing.”  
  
         “So when I lie, you know?”  
  
         “Almost every time,” he nodded. “That’s how I knew what you were thinking about. Now, I have a question for you. Why were you thinking about Frida and your baby? What had you so concerned?”  
  
         “I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess it’s just that Frida’s had such a hard time and I just never thought about it. I was too busy worrying about myself.”  
  
         “You’ve had a lot to worry about,” he laughed gently. “And Frida’s just a little…conflicted right now.”  
  
         “What do you mean?”  
  
         “She’s happy for you,” he sighed. “She’s happy for…us. But she’s jealous and she resents herself for it. She’s jealous that you have someone taking care of you the way I do. She’s jealous that you’re with someone that looks the way I do. She’s jealous that you’re holding yourself together. She’s jealous that your mom isn’t angry with you. But she loves you so much, Aeva, she really does.”  
  
         “I know she does,” I nodded. I couldn’t really think of anything else to say, so I just stared at Nathan. He was hunched over, with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped. His legs were long enough that his feet were flat on the floor while mine dangled pitifully a good six inches in the air. He was staring intently at his fingers and with him in profile like he was, I finally noticed just how long his eye lashes were. His messy, ringlet curls tumbled forward as he bowed his head and sighed. He looked exhausted, just completely spent.  
  
         “I wrote to Viktor last night,” he muttered. It took a moment for my brain to start working again.  
  
         “Huh—oh, oh good,” I said awkwardly. “I’m sure he’ll, er, be glad to hear from you.” Nathan snorted and rested his face in his hands. I was still staring at him and the clouds must have shifted outside because warm light came filtering through my scarf-curtains and it made his skin shimmer. It wasn’t the blinding glitter, like candlelight hitting a chandelier; just a glowing sort of sheen. I thought it looked wonderful on his arms, but then he turned and looked right at me and he looked more angelic than I’d ever seen him before as his face lit up.  
  
         “You’re kind of beautiful, you know that, right?” I asked, still mesmerized. He gave me his little half smile.  
  
         “You’re entirely exquisite.”  
  
         “What are you talking about?” I laughed. “I’m so—,”  
  
         “I don’t care,” he laughed, covering my mouth. “I don’t want to hear it. I think you’re lovely; let me.” He punctuated this sentence by moving his hand and kissing me. I smiled into it and ran my fingers through his hair. He pulled away after a moment and rested his forehead against mine.  
  
         “I love you.”  
  
        Wait, was that only me, or did he say it too? Nathan seemed to be just as confused as I was. We both sat back and looked straight at each other.  
  
         “I love you.”  
  
        We laughed. We’d said it at the same time again.  
  
         “I mean it,” he said, smiling down at me. “I love you, Aeva.” Now, if it had been anyone else, I would have thought they were insinuating that I didn’t actually love them, but that’s not what Nathan meant.  
  
         “I know,” I replied, scooting closer so I could lean on him. “I know you do.”  
  
         “I won’t leave.”  
  
         “I know you won’t.”  
  
         “So, um, I don’t want you to feel like I’m rushing or anything,” said Nathan, clearing his throat. “But, do you have any plans as to where you’ll go if you decide to leave your parents’ house?”  
  
         “That would be _when_ I leave my parents’ house,” I corrected. “And I don’t know where we’ll go yet. I’d kind of like to stay close.”  
  
         “We?”  
  
         “Oh, um, yeah,” I mumbled. “I mean, if you want to come with me.”  
  
         “Of course I do,” he laughed, kissing me again. “Of course I want to go with you.” I let my head fall against his chest and felt a huge wave of relief.  
  
        Nathan loved me; I didn’t doubt it at all. I mistrusted so much in this world, but I was certain that Nathan loved me. When he was around me, it was almost like I could _feel_ it. He wasn’t going to go anywhere and he loved me. I was in a state of bliss I’d never known before and for the next few days, it was like I was floating.  
  
        During the week, when everyone else went to work, Mamá and I cleaned the house and Nathan entertained the viejos. Doña Luisa was even giving him Spanish lessons and in turn, he had taught her a few more phrases of English. She could now threaten to kill, stab, beat, drown, or shoot you. Things were obviously going very well.  
  
         “So, finally I had to ask the guy, have you ever worked a hose before?” Manuel said during dinner one night. “He looks me straight in the face and says, yeah, I water my lawn all the time.”  
  
         “Oh, dear god,” Miguelito laughed, dropping his face into his hands.  
  
         “I know!” Manuel huffed. “ _What_ is he doing in a fireman’s uniform? He’s going to get someone killed one of these days, I just know it.”  
  
         “Maybe you should take him under your wing, hijo,” Mamá suggested. “You could be his mentor.”  
  
         “Or I could punch myself in the face and have just as much fun.”  
  
         “Well, that would be pretty fun for me to watch,” I interjected. Manuel threw an ice cube at me, but Nathan caught it and plopped it into my glass.  
  
         “Interference!” Shouted Frida. “Nathan, you can’t protect her when she asks for it.”  
  
         “What!” He laughed exasperatedly. “When did that rule start?” I just smiled as he and Frida continued to bicker. I loved how easily he’d fallen in with my family.  
  
         “Whatever, Frida, whatever,” he sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms. “You made it up. Just make it easier for everyone and admit it.” Frida rolled her eyes and turned to help Chuy cut his meat.  
  
         “It’s a fake rule, Nathan,” I heard Lidia say as I passed the peas. “She’s just—Nathan? Are you alright?” I looked back to see that Nathan had gone entirely rigid and was staring in the direction of the front door. His fists were clenching and unclenching in his lap and his jaw muscles were twitching.  
  
         “Nathan,” I whispered. He looked down at me and he was _furious_.  
  
         “ _He’s here_ ,” he snarled, leaning close so no one else could hear. “ _Viktor is outside._ ” Viktor. Nathan’s dad. Nathan’s dad that he kind of hates. Nathan’s dad that he kind of hates that drinks human blood.  
  
         “Nathan’s not feeling well,” I said loudly, jumping up so fast I knocked my cup over. “I’m going to take him outside for a little fresh air.” Before anyone could say anything, I was dragging Nathan out of the room by his arm. Once we were in the entrance way, I started freaking out.  
  
         “What does he want? Whatdoeshewant? _Whatdoeshewant_!” I hissed.  
  
         “I have no idea, just, gah—I don’t know!” He replied, running his hands through his hair and beginning to pace. “I’m going to go talk to him, okay?”  
  
         “Yeah, I kind of figured you would!”  
  
         “Aeva, listen,” he said, now very serious. He took my face in his hands and made me look at him. “I need you to stay here, okay? I don’t know what he’ll do, but whatever happens, you need to _stay here_. Please, promise you won’t come after me.”  
  
         “Nathan,” I whispered, clutching his iron fingers. “Nathan, what the _fuck_ is going on? I know you two aren’t on great terms, but what is he going to do?”  
  
         “He’s probably going to attack me,” he replied calmly. “But don’t worry—Aeva? Aeva you’re going to hyperventilate.” I was gasping for air as he smoothed my hair and tried to calm me down. Viktor was going to _attack_ Nathan? How was that something to _not_ worry about?  
  
         “He could kill you!”  
  
         “He could, but he probably won’t,” Nathan assured me. “For as angry as he is, Viktor won’t kill me. I’m his son, remember?” I glared at him and he rolled his eyes.  
  
         “I can take him, Aeva,” he grumbled. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”  
  
         “He’s attacked you before?”  
  
         “Yeah,” he shrugged. “We don’t have a productive relationship. It’s…it’s nothing you need to worry about. I just need you to promise me that you’ll stay here.”  
  
         “Then promise you’re coming back,” I demanded.  
  
         “I am, I am,” he said, nodding fervently. “I’m going to come back. But, that’s another thing. Do you remember what Viktor’s gift is?”  
  
         “He—poofs,” I replied, the wheels in my head slowly starting to turn. “Is he—is he going to take you somewhere?”  
  
         “He might. Actually, I’m just going to go with yes, he’s going to take me somewhere,” Nathan admitted. “Just stay in here and don’t panic. It doesn’t matter where he takes me, I _will_ come back to you, okay? I love you Aeva, he’s not going to scare me away.”  
  
         “Okay,” I nodded. “Okay. I promise. I love you too, Nathan. I’m really fucking scared, but I love you too.”  
  
         “That’s my girl,” he laughed. He pulled me in for one quick kiss before he dashed out the door. I peeked out the window and saw the most intimidating person I’d ever known waiting in the yard.  
  
        He was tall; exactly the same height as Nathan. He was extremely broad through his chest and shoulders, but had an otherwise slim build. His hair was jet black and swept away from his face and, though it could have been a glare from the lights in the house, he appeared to have a touch of grey at his temples. His jaw and sharp chin were covered in rugged black stubble and that, combined with his heavy brow and prominent nose, made him look positively sinister. This was Nathan’s father. I suddenly had no desire at all to go outside.  
  
        As Nathan neared, Viktor’s mouth moved; he was obviously speaking. Nathan’s back was to me, but even without reading his lips, I knew his reply was not what his father had wanted to hear. Viktor’s nostrils flared and his eyes widened, glowing red like coals. He spoke to Nathan again and nodded slowly as he got a reply. I thought it was over when, all of a sudden, Viktor had launched himself at Nathan, slamming him to the ground. I didn’t mean to break my promise, but I was out the door before I knew what had happened.  
  
         “NATHAN!”  
  
         “NO!” He roared. Viktor actually jumped at me, but Nathan stopped him. He locked eyes with me for a fraction of a second before Viktor grabbed a fistful of his beautiful curls and pulled. I thought that, surely, Viktor was trying to rip Nathan’s hair out, but instead, they both vanished.  
  
        Just like that.  
  



	12. Bonded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healthy father-son relationships can be tricky

###  _Nathan_

                “Just stay in here and don’t panic. It doesn’t matter where he takes me, I will come back to you, okay? I love you Aeva, he’s not going to scare me away.” She stared at me for a moment longer before she began to nod.  
  
         “Okay. Okay. I promise. I love you too, Nathan. I’m really fucking scared, but I love you too.”  
  
         “That’s my girl,” I said, laughing a little. There was no way for me to tell her how grateful I was that she was going to stay out of harm’s way, but with her this close, there was no way for me to leave without trying. I kissed her, hoping it got my point across, and then went outside. Viktor was waiting on the lawn. He was just the same as always: imposing and handsome, impeccably dressed, and glowering at me for some misdeed.  
  
         “How is the latest charity case going?” He asked, his accent thick as ever.  
  
         “She’s not a charity case,” I replied. “She’s my—she’s mine. Aeva’s mine.” He did _not_ like that.  
  
         “That had better be a territorial claim,” he hissed, “and nothing more.”  
  
         “It’s more,” I growled. He nodded slowly and looked down; I knew what he was doing and braced for impact. My movement triggered him and in an instant, he was flying at me. He changed direction in midair and before I could readjust, he locked an arm around my neck and tackled me to the ground, growling and spitting like an animal.  
  
        I heard the door open and panic shot through me; I could smell her blood from here and I knew Viktor could too.  
  
         “NATHAN!”  
  
        Viktor lunged towards her.  
  
         “NO!” I grabbed him by the hips and held him in place. The sudden stop knocked him out of hunt mode and he returned to the problem at hand. I caught one quick glance at Aeva’s terrified face before I felt the familiar jolt of freefall. Then, just as suddenly, there was ground under my back, as solid as if I hadn’t moved at all.  
  
         Viktor’s fist collided with my face. I grabbed one of his wrists in each hand and curled my legs up to his chest, sending him sprawling with a tremendous kick. When he landed, he crouched for another spring, but I was too fast for him. I leapt onto his back before he could turn around and pinned his arms to his sides. He slammed his head back into my mouth and I felt my jaw snap but I kept my hold. He continued to struggle, and I was sure I had him, but I was wrong.  
  
        In one lightning fast movement, he was out of my grip and on top of me, one hand on either shoulder, slamming me into the ground.  
  
         “HOW!” _slam_ “COULD!” _slam_ “YOU!” _slam_ “BE!” _slam_ “SO!” _slam_ “STUPID!” _SLAM!_  
  
        He shoved me away in disgust and I reset everything he’d broken in silence. As I shifted my jaw back Viktor sniffed loudly.  
  
         “I’m sorry about that,” he muttered. “Do you vant me to help?”  
  
         “No, I’ve got it, thanks,” I snorted, snapping the bones into place.  
  
         “Nataniel, I just—,” he stopped and took a long breath before speaking through his teeth. “You vill leave her as soon as possible. That is all there is to it.”  
  
         “No, _you_ will take me back and disappear,” I scoffed. Then I looked around. There was nothing but sprawling tundra in every direction. “Viktor, where are we?”  
  
         “Antarctica.”  
  
         “That’s a new one.”  
  
         “I’ve alvays vanted to see it. It’s not terribly impressive.”  
  
         “Just stop,” I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Don’t…don’t _banter_ with me. Just shut up and take me back.”  
  
         “No!” He growled. “You are _not_ going back! It is much too dangerous for you there. Vhat if the Volturi learn about it? Vhat then?”  
  
         “Then I’ll face the consequences,” I said boldly. “I’ve made my choice.”  
  
         “And the girl?”  
  
         “She…she’s made her choice too,” I said, though much quieter.  
  
         “Does she know vhat she’s chosen, Nataniel?” Viktor asked, beginning to circle me. “Have you _really_ told her vhat she faces? Vhat that child of hers faces?”  
  
         “I’ve told her.”  
  
         “Everything? How they’ll come and take you avay? All three of you and probably anyvone else that vas in that house? Does she know how they’ll kill her and everyvone she loves, except for you? Does she know that they’ll keep you alive, that you’ll be fine, but she and everyone else vill be _murdered_?” I gritted my teeth and glared at him; my entire brain was on fire.  
  
        How many times had I thought about it! I’d pined for hours while she slept, just thinking about what the Volturi might do but had I ever actually _told_ her?  
  
         “Vell, Nataniel?”  
  
         “No.”  
  
         “Vhat vas that?”  
  
         “No!” I roared. “No, I haven’t told her. I’ve just—,”  
  
         “Been lying to her,” Viktor hissed. “You’ve been making her feel like she’s safe, probably telling her so too, but she’s not, is she? You’ve convinced her that she is safe vith you, and if it vere only you she had to vorry about, you’d be right. But it’s not just you, is it Nataniel? It’s never been just you.”  
  
         “Stop, Viktor,” I whispered. My heart was shattering in to smaller pieces with every word he said. Viktor’s perfectly shined shoes stopped directly in front of me. I looked up to see him staring down at me not in triumph or anger, but in immense sympathy.  
  
         “I know it vill be difficult, Nataniel,” he murmured. “But you have to do it. You have to leave her vhile she still has a chance. Think of her child.”  
  
         “You don’t fucking care about her _child_.”  
  
         “No, I don’t,” he admitted. “I don’t like the small vones. I care about my son, though. I know it hurts, but you’ve left somevone before. You can do it again.” Viktor sighed, extending a hand to me. “This is the right choice, Nataniel. You’ll see that in the end.” I was broken. I didn’t think I would ever be able to get up off my knees. But that hand was not going to lift me. I grasped Viktor’s fingers and he pulled gently. My stomach had not finished its jolt before I found myself kneeling on grass again. The smell here was one that I knew and it sent a dagger through my heart. I turned my head and there was Aeva, sitting on the front step of her mother’s house, waiting for me.  
  
         “Nataniel.”  
  
        I was shocked to see Viktor still holding my hand.  
  
         “One night,” I pleaded. “One more night.”  
  
         “I vill be right here in exactly twelve hours,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It is five forty five. Twelve hours, Nataniel.”  
  
         “Alright,” I said, giving a little nod. Viktor looked once at Aeva before dropping my hand and stalking off into the darkness. I watched him go and as soon as he was gone, I turned back to Aeva. She came running and locked her arms around me.  
  
         “Nathan, oh god,” she sobbed. She was crying. I was wiping her tears away before I knew what I was doing.  
  
         “Hush, love,” I murmured. “Hush. I’m fine.”  
  
         “Yeah, yeah I can see that,” she laughed, still with tears in her eyes. “And is this snow?” I smiled weakly as she brushed the powder off my knees. Then she put her palm against my cheek and turned my face to look at her.  
  
         “Nathan, what’s wrong?” She asked. “What did he do?”  
  
         “Broke my jaw and I think my shoulder.”  
  
         “Sweet Jesus, Nathan!”  
  
         “No, no, I’m fine,” I groaned, grabbing her hands as she moved to stand up. “It’s just…Aeva, I need to talk to you.”  
  
         “Let’s go inside,” she cooed, tugging my arm. I allowed her to pull me to my feet and lead me into the house. We returned to our seats at the table and Aeva kept eating, watching me out of the corner of her eyes.  
  
         “Wow, Nathan, you look terrible,” gasped Manuel.  
  
         “Yeah, hombre, are you dying?” Miguelito asked, putting his hand on my forehead. “He’s real cold, tía.”  
  
         “It’s Nathan,” Maria sighed. “He’s always cold, tonto.” Aeva had stopped eating and was staring right at me.  
  
         “Nathan, what do you need?” She asked.  
  
         “I need to lie down,” I hinted.  
  
         “Right then, I’m going to take Nathan upstairs and call it a night.”  
  
         “Okay, hija,” Jaime said, standing as we left. “Feel better, Nathan.” I tried to smile, but only managed a grimace. When we got to Aeva’s room she shut the door and propped her desk chair under the knob.  
  
         “Manuel does not need to barge in tonight,” she said, walking over to me. “Now what’s wrong, Nathan?”  
  
         “At five forty five tomorrow morning,” I said numbly. “Viktor will be outside. I have to go with him.”  
  
         “Will you come back?”  
  
         “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll be allowed.”  
  
        Silence. When I finally looked at Aeva, she swung. I heard it, but I didn’t feel a thing. Her hand was throbbing; I could see it pulse.  
  
         “Did you just _slap_ me?” I asked in disbelief. She was _livid_.  
  
         “Did you just say you might not come back?” She scoffed. “What the hell was all the stuff you said a few days ago, huh? ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ What was that?”  
  
         “Aeva, Viktor—,”  
  
         “No, shut up!” She snapped. “Right before you left, what did you say?”  
  
         “Aeva—,”  
  
         “What did you say!”  
  
         “He’s not going to scare me away.”  
  
         “So what happened?” She demanded. Her sweet black eyes didn’t look so sweet anymore.  
  
         “He…Aeva, I haven’t been honest with you,” I sighed. “There’s some things that I…I just didn’t tell you.”  
  
         “Like what? What could possibly be so bad that you have to leave forever?”  
  
         “The Volturi,” I muttered.  
  
         “Them?” She laughed. “Weren’t you one of them? Don’t they like you?”  
  
         “Yes, but they don’t like you.”  
  
         “I thought they didn’t know about me,” she said, now very suspicious.  
  
         “They don’t know about you, but Aeva _listen to me_!” She had been about to say something but shut her mouth and glared at me instead.  
  
         “Thank you. Now, I was very selfish in deciding to stay with you.”  
  
         “I asked you to.”  
  
         “Aeva,” I warned. “Just _listen_. When I decided it was okay, I made a huge choice for you. You don’t even know the whole significance of me being with you. I’m dangerous.”  
  
         “Dear god, Nathan,” she huffed. “Do _not_ feed me that cliché crap.”  
  
         “It’s not a cliché, Aeva, you could die,” I gasped. “You could be killed.”  
  
         “You’re not going to hurt me.”  
  
         “It wouldn’t be me.”  
  
        She stared at me in silence again.  
  
         “Aeva,” I sighed. “If the Volturi ever knew about us, they would give me two choices: kill you or change you. I could change you; I would do it if that’s what it came down to. But your baby…”  
  
         “What about my baby?”  
  
         “It…I won’t be able to…Aeva, I can only change you.”  
  
         “You have _got_ to be joking.”  
  
         “I’m not, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “And your family, well, we’d have to leave them. If we were ever around them, even once you’re safe again, the Volturi would put two and two together and guess that they know something and…your family…there’s so many…I can only change you.”  
  
         “What about you? What would they do to you?”  
  
         “They wouldn’t do anything to me, even if they decide to kill you.”  
  
         “So you figured that was okay?” She asked, eyes wide. “You figured that I would be okay with the death of my child and the rest of my family as long as I had you?”  
  
         “Aeva, please, I—,”  
  
         “No, Nathan,” she said, shaking her head. “No, that’s not okay. Did you think because you’re so much older, you know everything? You know what’s best for me?”  
  
         “I know _I’m_ not what’s best for you!” I yelled. “I just wanted to be with you.”  
  
         “Nathan, go ahead and throw _me_ away like a play thing, but not my family,” she hissed through her teeth. “They didn’t ask for you; they don’t deserve this.”  
  
        I stared at her in utter disbelief. “ _Throw you away_?”  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “You think I would throw you away?”  
  
         “Well that’s what it sounds like the plan is if we get found out. Either let me die or make me a vampire; fuck the rest of the people in my life!”  
  
         “I wouldn’t…I’m not going to just…”  
  
         “You’re not going to what?” She demanded, crossing her arms.  
  
         “I’m not just going to _let_ them.”  
  
         “…What?”  
  
         “Do you honestly think if the Volturi showed up at the door and told me they were going to harm you or anyone else in this house, I would just invite them in? Let them do as they please just because they like me?”  
  
         “Well…”  
  
         “I left them a long time ago, Aeva. I have no love for them or what they do. I have no loyalty to the Volturi.”  
  
         “So…what? What would you do?” Her anger was faltering. “What, like, fight them?”  
  
         “Of course. I mean, they wouldn’t send a full guard right away.” I sat down on the bed while I thought it through. “Probably just Demetri, their tracker. He’s big, but I’m faster. When he didn’t return, then they would send out some bigger guns, like Alec and Jane. Jane’s soft on me though, so I—“  
  
         “Nathan.”  
  
         “What?” I looked up at her and she had a strange expression on.  
  
         “Are you talking about…killing people?”  
  
         “Vampires, yes.”  
  
         “You would just…like…kill them?”  
  
         “Well, not _just_. It does take effort.”  
  
         “Well fuck, Nathan,” she said, letting out a stressed laugh and running her hand through her hair. “I don’t…I don’t know what to think.”  
  
         “I don’t know what to do here,” I confessed. “Should I hug you? Are you still angry with me?”  
  
         “Don’t hug me, I think. But, I’m not sure if I’m still angry either. I just…you phrased it really badly at first. But you would fight them…they’re still, like, definitely a _problem_. But I…you wouldn’t…” She stared at the ground and shook her head before throwing her hands out to either side and fixing me with a look. “Well, we need a fucking _plan_ , don’t we?”  
  
         “A plan? A plan for what?”  
  
         “For emergencies! What to do if everything goes horribly, horribly wrong and the fucking vampire third reich show up! I mean, where do we go?”  
  
        I wasn’t sure what to think. I was certain she had been building up to throwing me out of the house, but instead…this. Instead, she wanted to make a plan to stay together.  
  
         “Well, we could run, all of us. We could hide for a while.”  
  
         “Is there anyone you can think of that would help us?”  
  
         “There’s a coven on the West coast; they’re all yellow eyes, like me. Viktor and I know their two founding members fairly well. I think they would help.”  
  
         “That’s good,” she said, coming closer. “We would have other vampires on our side.”  
  
         “It wouldn’t be a permanent solution, though. We can’t run forever; not your whole family.”  
  
         “So what would the Volturi ultimately want from us?”  
  
         “They just want to make sure that humans don’t find out about vampires. They’ve lived through ages where humans hunted us; if enough of you get together, you can actually kill us.”  
  
         “So how would they ensure that?”  
  
         “You’re the only one that actually knows. They like me, they would let me keep you. They would give me the opportunity to change you.”  
  
         “But you can’t change the baby?”  
  
         “No, absolutely not,” I said instantly. “Vampires tried that a long time ago. They made the immortal children; they didn’t have any self-control. They just…massacred cities.”  
  
         “So…if the absolute _worst_ happens, I hand over my baby to my family and you change me and we leave?”  
  
         “I can’t ask you to do that.”  
  
         “I wouldn’t do it because you asked me; I’d do it because that’s what would keep my family safe, isn’t it? That’s the only thing?”  
  
         “I…I don’t think there’s a safer alternative, no. Unless, I just go.”  
  
        She looked at me with panic in her eyes. “I don’t…I don’t want that. I don’t want you to leave.”  
  
         “You’re not safe with me.”  
  
         “I’m safe with you. It’s the other ones we have to worry about.”  
  
         “That’s still because of me.”  
  
         “Yeah, but you can’t just…go.”  
  
         “Why not?” I needed to hear her answer to this. I knew it would be agony for me if I left and I didn’t understand why. I needed to hear the same from her.  
  
         “Nathan, I have a question for you,” she sighed, taking another step closer and crossing her arms. “I…I’ve tried not to worry about it. I mean, new relationships are always pretty intense at the start, but…what’s happening? What’s happening to me? Why do I feel this strongly about you? Is this because you’re a vampire?”  
  
         “No,” I said, equally mystified. “Humans are supposed to be naturally afraid of vampires; we’re predators to you and your bodies know that. This…what’s happening to us isn’t…normal.”  
  
         “To us? You feel it too?”  
  
         “Yeah,” I nodded. “I’ve been around a long time, Aeva. It takes a lot to surprise me but this is…new.”  
  
         “Does it scare you?”  
  
         “Very much so.”  
  
         “I thought it was just me,” she said, finally reaching out a hand to touch me. She stroked the side of my face. “I figured it had to be a vampire thing, because you’re so…you. You know? Like you just look and smell and feel so _right_. I thought you were like this for everyone.”  
  
         “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No, just you.”  
  
         “Sometimes it feels like…you’re mine, you know?” I did; I understood fully. She brushed her fingers through the hair over my ear and looked lost in thought. “It’s like you were supposed to be mine.”  
  
        A chill went up my spine as a thought occurred to me. I had heard sentiments like this before. Vampires fell in and out of love, just like humans did. But, occasionally, vampires managed to find their mates: their perfect match.  
  
        All three leaders of the Volturi, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, had theirs; Marcus’s mate had been killed though, and he was left a shell of his former self. Stories abounded of vampires losing mates and then killing themselves. They couldn’t go on, because vampires mated for life. But that meant the lifespan of a vampire; it could stretch on into eternity. But Aeva was human; she couldn’t be my mate. But why not?  
  
        Every vampire began life as a human. If mates were destined, each part of the pair was a human at one point. Perhaps I had just met her too soon.  
  
        There was a knock at the door, but neither of us responded to it. She just kept twirling a lock of my hair around her finger, staring into space. I was miles away as well.  
  
         “Hey,” Manuel said, unable to open the door because of the chair. “We…uh…heard the shouting downstairs. Are you guys okay?”  
  
         “Yeah,” Aeva said quietly, still deep in thought. “We’re fine.”  
  
         “Nathan, uh, how you feeling?”  
  
         “Better,” I muttered. “Much better. Thank you.”  
  
         “Can we just…have a minute?” Ava said.  
  
         “Yeah, of course. We were just worried. You’re sure you two are okay?”  
  
         “Yeah, we’re good.”  
  
         “Oh…okay,” Manuel said. We listened to him walk away and back down the steps.  
  
         “He’s scared,” I said quietly. “I could smell it. I can hear them all downstairs; they’re talking about us. They’re waiting.”  
  
         “They can wait until tomorrow,” she sighed, finally coming all the way back to me and looking me in the face. “Your eyes are turning brown.”  
  
         “I haven’t hunted in a while.”  
  
         “You should go,” she said gently, taking one of my hands. “I don’t want you to be hungry.”  
  
         “I can go tonight.” We both stared at my hand in hers for a long while. I ran my thumb over her fingers and she looked at me, jaw set.  
  
         “Stay with me,” she said. “We’ll…we’ll deal with what comes, but you stay with me.”  
  
        I nodded. “Of course. Of course I will. I mean, I’ll try my best.”  
  
         “You’ll _try_?”  
  
         “Viktor’s coming back in the morning,” I reminded her. “He won’t leave without me.”  
  
         “But it’ll be like you said before, right? If he takes you somewhere, you’ll come back?”  
  
        I stood up and stepped close to her. She kept hold of my hand, but put her other arm around my waist. I bowed my head low over hers. “I’ll come back.”  
  
         “Thank you. And I want you to know I was being general when I told you to stay with me. I really do want you to go hunting tonight.”  
  
        I couldn’t help but laugh. “I got that, yes.” She smiled a little and looked back down at the ground.  
  
         “Aeva?” I asked quietly. She glanced back up. “Are we okay? I…I know we just established that we both feel like we _have_ to be with each other, but…do you want me around right now? I can go hunt right now; I’ll come back later.” She smiled, shook her head and let go of my hand, putting both arms around me. I let out a sigh of relief, and wrapped my arms around her too.  
  
         “We’re okay,” she affirmed. “It’s just a lot to think about.”  
  
         “It is,” I agreed. I rested my cheek on the top of her head and we stayed like that for a moment, just holding each other.  
  
         “Can we lay down?” She asked. “My feet hurt from standing.”  
  
         “Of course.” She changed into pajamas, but I didn’t, knowing I was going out once she fell asleep. We laid together under the blanket, her curled against my side and my arm around her. We stayed silent, both thinking deeply. After an hour or two like that, she finally drifted off and I snuck out her window.  
  
        I had to go pretty far to find my food. I took down a large buck, draining it completely. I snuck back into Aeva’s room just as silently as I had left and I stripped down to my boxers before getting back into her bed. I rolled the comforter back up from the foot of the bed and tugged it up over our shoulders. She turned over in her sleep, snaking an arm across my middle.  
  
        It was just barely midnight. Viktor would arrive in a few hours. He wouldn’t take it well when I told him that I was still determined to stay with Aeva. I couldn’t be sure what he’d do, but I was certain he wouldn’t be helpful about it. He’d leave me somewhere far away from her; it’d take me weeks to get back. I was genuinely concerned he’d leave me in Antarctica; I didn’t know of any way to get back from there but to swim to South America. The prospect of swimming that far was not overly appealing to me. I watched Aeva sleep for a long time, worrying about when I would get to see her again.  
  
        When her clock showed that it was 3:00am, I finally broke. I did something I had never done before and I nudged her awake.  
  
         “Aeva,” I whispered. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open at me.  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “Come here.” I pulled her in close and kissed her. She responded immediately, pulling on my waist where she already had a grip. I littered her neck, shoulders, and chest with kisses. She ran her hands all over me, hungry to be in contact with my bare skin. I did the same to her, simply moving her clothes out of the way where they were barriers. This was new territory and I was worried because I couldn’t seem to stop or make myself slow down.  
  
        My entire body was pressed firmly to hers, my mouth locked on her skin. She pulled on me, dragging me even closer. She was breathing hard, filling my nose with her scent, and her mouth burned where she pressed it against me. I heard a low growl escaping me as we clung to one another.  
  
        I was glad she’d sent me hunting; I might have devoured her right then otherwise.  
  



	13. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan's dad pays a visit

###  _Aeva_

                We were staring at each other, both still breathing hard. He’d never kissed me like that before. He had his arms around me, one hand on my hip, keeping me pressed against him. I had one hand in his hair, my fingers tangled deep in his curls.  
  
         “He’ll be here soon,” he whispered, bowing his head so his forehead touched mine.  
  
         “What are we going to do?”  
  
         “I don’t know. I can’t plan anything; I don’t know what he’ll do.”  
  
        I nodded and held him closer. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like that he and I had finally admitted the bizarre strength of the bond that we felt and now he was going to be taken away from me. He stayed in bed with me a few moments longer before getting up to dress. I watched him pull his clothes on in the early morning darkness; his skin reflected the moonlight. Once he was ready, he ran a hand through his hair and looked back at me.  
  
         “Will you stay here?” He asked. “Actually _stay_ this time?”  
  
         “I don’t want to.”  
  
         “He might hurt you,” he sighed, coming closer. “He’ll be angry. It can be hard to control hunting urges when you’re in a rage; especially if your normal food source is humans. I don’t want you close enough to get bit.” He brushed his hand against my face and I leaned into his palm.  
  
         “I’ll stay.”  
  
         “Thank you.”  
  
         “What should I do if he takes you?”  
  
         “ _When_ he takes me,” he corrected dryly. “Just wait. I’ll find some way to contact you. Then we’ll know how long it will be until I’m back.”  
  
         “Don’t…please don’t die, okay? I don’t feel like Viktor would tell me if you did.”  
  
         “I’ll try my best not to die,” he replied, smiling. “Please don’t get a new boyfriend while I’m gone. Your bed can’t fit three people and he’d probably be uncomfortable about me spooning him.” I couldn’t help but laugh and he smiled wider. “It’s time,” he sighed. “I have to go out there.”  
  
        I got up on my knees and he came toward me, letting me pull him in for another kiss. He held my face in both his hands when our lips met, keeping me there just a little longer. When he pulled away, his yellow eyes were sad.  
  
         “Go,” I said. “I’ll wait.” He nodded and silently left the house. I shut my eyes and listened as hard as I could; if they fought, I might be able to hear it. I could hear shouting, out on the front lawn. Not a great sign, really. I wanted to go down stairs and peek out the window, just to make sure Viktor wasn’t hurting Nathan, but I had promised. I decided I would stay in my bed until the noise stopped; then I could run and look outside. The shouting stopped and it sounded like dogs growling. I clenched my eyes shut even tighter, listening as hard as I could, when suddenly someone had a vice grip on my arm. I opened my eyes to see Viktor inches from my face.  
  
        I screamed and my door burst open, a yellow blur shooting past and knocking Viktor to the floor. It was Nathan and he was snarling like an animal. I scrambled, trying to get out of the bed and run from the room, but my legs were tangled in the blankets.  
  
         “No you stay!” Viktor shouted, throwing Nathan off of him and lunging at me again. His hand was spread wide, fingers positioned like claws, as he swung down at me. Nathan grabbed him around his wrist and diverted the blow, raking his father’s fingers through the mattress instead. I was screaming and squirming as fast as I could, still trying to get free from the comforter. Viktor was snarling and snapping at me, trying as hard as he could to strike me. Nathan moved just as fast as his father did, blocking his hands from ever touching me. We could all hear my family stirring, awakened by my shouting.  
  
        Finally, Nathan locked his arms around his father’s body and wrenched him to the floor. Someone was running down the hall toward my room and Viktor whirled around, snatching Nathan off the floor by his throat.  
  
        Then they vanished.  
  
        Manuel burst into my room and I realized Nathan had ripped the door off its hinges when he’d come in. Miguelito followed right behind my brother with a bat in his hands.  
  
         “What’s happening?” Manuel demanded, rushing to my bedside. I was crying and hyperventilating; he grabbed my head with both hands. “Aevita, estás bien? Are you okay?” I nodded, unable to make words.  
  
        Miguel stood in the doorway and looked around, eyes wide. My bed was destroyed; stuffing and feathers covered the floor. Viktor and Nathan had crashed into some of my work, so there were also broken frames and sculptures littering the room.  
  
         “Aeva,” Manuel said, shaking me gently to get my attention. “Where’s Nathan? Did he do this?” I started crying even harder and shook my head. “Aeva, is he okay? Where is he?” I had no idea where he was, but he was definitely in danger. There was no way that attack had stopped once they disappeared. I shook my head again.  
  
         “Miguel,” my brother called over his shoulder, “Go get Papá and Tío; Nathan’s gone.” He turned back to me. “Hey, calm down, hermana, calm down. We’re gonna go out and look for him right now.” I could hear the little ones crying, but Frida came into my room alone.  
  
         “Manuel, what happened?”  
  
         “I don’t know. You need to calm her down, though. She’s freaking out. Something attacked her and now Nathan’s missing.” He hurried from the room and I could hear the rest of my family shouting, everyone asking the same question: What happened? What happened?  
  
        What was I supposed to say?  
  
         “Aeva, baby, come here,” Frida said, gently tugging the blanket off my legs. She helped me to my feet and led me to her room. I was trying my best to take deep breaths. I put my hands protectively over my stomach; I hoped all that thrashing around hadn’t hurt the baby. Lupe was crying and Frida scooped her up out of the play pen. Chuy was sitting up in the bed and tossed the blanket back to let me crawl in with him.  
  
         “Thank you, querido,” I said, wiping tears off my face and letting him climb into my lap.  
  
         “Are you okay, tía?” He asked as Frida settled in beside us.  
  
         “Yeah, sweetie, I’m fine.”  
  
         “You were yelling.”  
  
         “Yeah, I was. I got scared.”  
  
         “Was it monsters?”  
  
         “Hush, nene,” Frida scolded. “What was it Aeva? It sounded like lions. Was there an animal?”  
  
         “No, no…it’s…” I was at a loss. “Viktor was here.”  
  
         “Nathan’s dad? The Russian guy?”  
  
        I nodded and she stared at me, waiting for me to say something more.  
  
         “Did…did _he_ do that?” She asked, pointing a thumb in the direction of my room. I just kept staring at her. “He’s like Nathan, isn’t he?”  
  
         “Yeah.”  
  
         “Shit, Aeva,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Is that normal for them?”  
  
         “No, he was mad.”  
  
         “Mad at what?”  
  
         “At me…and at Nathan. He doesn’t like that we’re together.”  
  
         “Apparently not, tonta.” She sat in silence for a moment before asking, “Aeva, where’s Nathan?”  
  
         “He’s gone,” I said numbly. “Viktor took him.”  
  
         “He _took_ him? Like, kidnapped him?”  
  
         “Y…yeah.”  
  
         “Well, hey,” she said, taking my hand. “The men are out looking for him, okay? They can’t have gone too far and we’ll put out notices or something. We’ll find him, okay?”  
  
         “Yeah,” I nodded. I knew I couldn’t tell them about what Viktor could do; how he could have indeed gone quite far away with Nathan. It was easier to let them think they could help by forming a search party. I could never, ever share that—apart from Viktor coming after me—everything had gone just as expected. He had taken Nathan to some faraway location and now my job was to sit and wait for a phone call or a letter to let me know he was alright. I was beginning to comprehend that my life with Nathan was going to be nothing but a stream of half-truths to my family.  
  
        The four of us sat together in Frida’s bed. Once Lupe calmed down, she fell back asleep against my sister’s chest. Chuy seemed content to stay cuddled up against my belly. He kept running his hand over it, humming gently. Down stairs, I could hear the rest of the women in the family getting busy in the kitchen. It didn’t matter that it was just barely six in the morning, a meal had to be prepared. In our family, it was a firmly held belief that every problem could be improved with good food. The smell of frijoles was wafting up the stairs and we couldn’t resist.  
  
        Being in the kitchen with my family made me feel a little better. They were behaving mostly normally, but any time someone would walk past me, they put a comforting hand on my shoulder or kissed my head. We ate and played cards. Finally, at around nine, the men came back inside. The women pounced on them.  
  
         “Was he out there?”  
  
         “Did you find him?”  
  
         “Where is he, Carlos?”  
  
         “Mujeres, mujeres,” Papá said, putting his hands up to quiet them. “Calm down, everything is alright.”  
  
         “Oh, thank goodness,” Abuela sighed, clutching her heart. “You’ve found him.”  
  
         “Ah, well…no…”  
  
         “WELL THEN WHERE IS HE?”  
  
        They all continued to yell and throw their hands around in a panic for another few minutes. Finally, Papá was able to calm them down enough to be heard.  
  
         “We can’t find a trace of him,” he sighed. “We even asked a few neighbors and no one’s seen him. We figure that if we just…” But I didn’t listen to the new plan. I left for the living room and sat by myself on the couch. They weren’t going to find him; we just had to wait. Mamá came in and joined me after a while.  
  
         “Hang in there,” she said. “He’ll turn up. He’s a grown man; he’ll find his way back.”  
  
         “Yeah,” I nodded, leaning on her shoulder. “He will.”  
  
         “And we can wait for him. We did this for you not too long ago; just hanging around waiting for you to turn up. The trick is to not stop your life. Keep living in the meantime. It’ll make the waiting go faster.”  
  
         “I don’t have a life besides him.”  
  
         “What?” She laughed. “You don’t have a life besides that boy? Hija, I never thought you were the stupid one of my children, but…”  
  
         “Mamá!” I laughed, shoving her a little.  
  
         “You have a life, Estrella. You have things to paint. Get to it.”  
  
         “Can I just sit here for a little while longer?”  
  
         “I suppose.” She patted my knee and went back to the kitchen to clean up. _Keep living_. What was I supposed to do? I knew it was an exaggeration when I’d said I had no life outside of Nathan, but I’d certainly let him become my routine. That couldn’t be healthy. I couldn’t have a life made up exclusively of me lying in bed next to him, as nice as that sounded. No, Mamá was right: there were things to paint.  
  
        I hauled myself back to my room, ignoring the mess that was my bed. I kicked the broken pieces of old artwork that Viktor and Nathan had ruined, sweeping them out of the way with my foot. It was my easel I was after and I hauled it to the center of the room. My half-finished landscape still sat there, waiting to receive a little attention.  
  
         “Sorry,” I muttered, yanking it off and tossing it aside. I unrolled and trimmed a piece of canvas, stretching and pinning it until it was perfect. I sat and stared at the fresh, white cloth that was awaiting my creation. I stared at it for a long time. I had no idea what to paint.  
  
        I sighed and decided that perhaps mixing my colors might inspire me. I took paints and a pallet of a shelf, blending and refining until I was left staring at a deep, sunset orange. The image was clear in my head: lilies. I’d always had an affinity for painting nature; plants and animals came to life at the far end of my brushes. I set to work mapping out a gigantic bouquet of bright orange tiger lilies. I was quickly lost in my work, my eyes following the smooth glide of my paintbrush as it spread color across canvas. I was only shaken out of my stupor by an annoying ringing sound. I blinked my eyes and took in the room; the sun outside my window told me it was late afternoon or early evening. The ringing sound continued.  
  
        The phone.  
  
        I was up and hurtling down the stairs as fast as my pregnant body would let me go. I skidded into the kitchen on socks and snatched the receiver up just as mamá had been reaching for it.  
  
         “Hello?” I wheezed, still catching my breath.  
  
         “Hey,” said a familiar voice. “I’ve been…I’ve been trying to reach you for a while. I had trouble figuring out where you were.”  
  
         “Um…Hi, Jason. What…what do you need?” I asked.  
  
         “I need to speak to you,” he laughed. “I was pretty…emotional the last time we talked. I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m not _totally_ opposed to the idea of having a kid, you know. I was pretty hasty with what I did.”  
  
         “You took all our money and ran off in the middle of the night.”  
  
         “I…I know I did. I’m so sorry, Aeva.”  
  
         “That’s…nice.”  
  
         “Look, I just really think we should talk about things. I know I’m still hurting pretty bad. Maybe I could come by your house later and see you.”  
  
         “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”  
  
         “Why not?”  
  
         “My family won’t exactly be happy to see you, and Nathan—“ I stopped mid-sentence.  
  
         “Nathan? Who’s Nathan? Are you seeing someone else?”  
  
         “Look, I have to go. I can’t really deal with this right now.”  
  
         “Aeva!”  
  
         “Please do not come over. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and looked up at Mamá. She and I burst out laughing at the same time.  
  
        It was good to laugh. It was good to paint. It had even been good to run.  
  
        Mamá was right; just keep living until he came back. That’s all I had to do.  
  



	14. Believed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It can be strange to visit old friends

###  _Nathan_

        I stood in the yard, my back to the house. I could hear the whole family breathing inside; Aeva was the only one awake. I could pick her out. She had done just what she’d promised: she was still sitting in her bed. I took a deep breath and, right on time, Viktor appeared in front of me.  
  
        He wrinkled his nose. “You _reek_ of that girl.”  
  
        I glared back at him.  
  
         “I hope your night vas vorth your vhile then. Come, let’s go.” He stuck out his hand but I didn’t move. He shut his eyes in irritation. “ _Nataniel_ …”  
  
         “I’m not going.”  
  
        He sighed and put his hand down. “Vhy not?”  
  
         “She doesn’t want me to; she wants me to stay. I told her everything and she wants me here.”  
  
        He opened his eyes slowly. The tendons in his jaw were flexing and a vein was sticking out at his temple. He was not happy with my answer. He took a deep breath to try and regain his composure, but he screamed at me anyway. “You stop this right now, Nataniel! I’ve had enough! You come avay!”  
  
         “I’m staying!” I shouted back. “You can’t just show up and drag me away from anything you don’t like.”  
  
         “I certainly can!” He curled his lip back bearing his teeth and growled at me. I snarled back and sank into a fighting stance; he dove right at me and caught me in the side of the face with his nails. My skin tore open and I knocked him back, getting ready for his next move. He wouldn’t fight me out in the open like this; we were too exposed to the mortals that lived there. He would move us. When he came at me again, I was ready for the ground to drop out from under me. Instead, he grabbed me around my neck and slammed my face to the ground.  
  
         “I’m finished vith this,” he hissed. “If you can’t end your little game yourself, I vill do it for you.” I had just barely enough time to process what he’d said before he was no longer on top of me. He had vanished and I knew exactly where he’d gone. I was back through the house and bursting through Aeva’s bedroom door just as he grabbed onto her. I slammed into his chest and knocked him backward, trying desperately to restrain him. As I struggled with him, Aeva started screaming and I couldn’t understand why she didn’t just run. One quick glance told me she was trapped by the blankets on the bed. Why hadn’t I rolled those down for her when I’d left?  
  
        Viktor had looked up at the same moment I did; he was not happy to see her trying to escape. “No, you stay!” He roared, leaping out of my grasp, hands out stretched. When he wanted to be, he was incredibly fast. It was all I could do to divert his blows before they struck Aeva, while she flailed, hopelessly unable to escape.  
  
        Her family was moving around in the house, alerted to the danger by her screams. I knew Viktor heard them too and he increased the ferocity of his attack, desperate to have it over with before he was seen. He stopped his hands for just a second, changing his pattern. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to touch her, so he rocked forward, prepared to bite. I took my chance and latched onto him, ripping us both backwards off of the bed. He broke my hold and whirled around, clenching my throat in his fist and hauling me off the ground. When he slammed me back down, it was onto a bed of jagged rocks. I kicked him off and he came at me again, hissing and spitting like a demon.  
  
        He was moving at top speed, but his fury was making him sloppy. At one point, I knocked him to the ground and I had my hands up, ready to deliver almighty blow right to his face. He shot a hand forward and tapped my chest. Suddenly, we were on a cliff side; he had solid ground beneath him, and I had air. I had no time to scramble and catch myself before I fell. He let me tumble down to the bottom of the canyon.  
  
         “Cheap trick,” I grunted, leaping to my feet. “You teleported.”  
  
         “I do _not_ teleport,” he scoffed. “Or _poof_.” In any other context, hearing someone furiously say the word “poof” might have made me laugh. But nothing was funny just then; he’d tried to kill Aeva. He leapt down the canyon wall and went for my throat again. We fought for hours, both running on an endless supply of rage.  
  
         “Just give it up!” I roared after he’d changed our location for the hundredth time. I wasn’t at all sure where we’d been thus far, but my clothes were coated in dust, sand, muck, and snow. We were now standing knee deep in thick, murky water, surrounded by banyan trees. I watched the snow in his hair melt, slowly dripping down his face. He’d paused momentarily to glare at me.  
  
         “Give it up?” He hissed. “I _made_ you, Nataniel. I vill not see you destroy yourself for some vorthless mortal. She’s _food_.”  
  
         “She’s not,” I growled, venom welling in my mouth. If he threatened her life one more time…  
  
         “You’re _mine_. You vill obey!”  
  
        I leapt at him, knocking him backward into the water so hard he shook the entirety of a tree as he struck its roots. “I have never obeyed you.”  
  
         “I know this!” He snapped, kicking my legs out from under me. I fell into the water, but did not get back up. We both sat, submerged up to our chests, scowling at one another.  
  
         “You have been nothing but irritating to me ever since I changed you.”  
  
         “You should write a book on parenting.”  
  
         “ _Irritating_ ,” he snarled, narrowing his eyes.  
  
         “Are we done here?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet. “Will you take me back now?”  
  
          “I’m not putting you anyvhere near her,” he scoffed, also rising out of the water. His suit was ruined; I was glad to see it. “I told you Nataniel; enough is enough. You’re putting us too much at risk; you’ve told the girl what you are. She’ll be condemned to death if they ever find out. I’m offering you an exit and her a mercy. Consider that before you roll your eyes at me again.”  
  
         “I’m not leaving her,” I repeated. “I can’t leave her.”  
  
         “Then you leave me no choice,” he growled, suddenly leaping forward and grabbing a fist full of my shirt. Instantly, we were in a dark, quiet tunnel.  
  
         “Viktor,” I hissed, clawing at his hand. “No! _No_! Anywhere but here. I can’t.”  
  
        He clenched his hand around my upper arm, hauling me forward. I was fully prepared to rip my own limb off if that’s what it came to. I couldn’t fight him here; it would make too much noise. Secrecy was everything.  
  
         “You’ll answer to Aro,” he said, shaking me roughly. “Let _him_ give you a deal, hm? I promise you, he vill not be nearly as lenient as I have been.”  
  
         “Viktor,” I said, now pleading. “Viktor please, no you can’t.” I changed my tactic, now trying to wrap my arms around him to restrain him.  
  
         “Stop this!” He squirmed in my grip. “Let go of me this instant!”  
  
         “Viktor, you can’t. I can’t face them for this; she’s my mate.”  
  
        His eyes went wide with fury. “ _VHAT_!”  
  
         “She’s my _mate_ ,” I repeated, pleading yet again. “I’m sure of it. Please, I can’t do this.”  
  
         “You have no idea vhat you’re talking about; it is just another romance. It is another E—“  
  
         “It’s not!” I protested. “It’s not. Viktor, I swear it to you. I’m on _fire_ for her; I’ve never felt this. Viktor, please. Father, _please_.”  
  
         “Don’t call me father just to get your vay,” he hissed, breaking out of my grasp. “I am not so easily manipulated. I won’t accept these other lies either. She is not your _mate_.”  
  
         “Viktor, get me out of here,” I begged, extending a hand toward him. “Take me to the Irish coven; put me in front of the truth seer. Just do it before anyone knows we’re here.”  
  
         “If you are lying to me, I vill pry out your stupid yellow eyes and drag you back here by your empty sockets…”  
  
         “Put it in the parenting book,” I huffed, unfazed by his threat. He’d already done that once, anyway. He wasn’t one for repeating. “Let’s _go_.” I shook my hand at him and just as he started to reach for it, a hulking vampire appeared at the far end of the tunnel.  
  
         “I knew I heard someone,” Demetri’s voice called as he came toward us. “Viktor, Nataniel; it’s been too long.”  
  
         “Agreed,” I called back, lowering my hand. At least being dragged through the remotest parts of the planet had covered Aeva’s scent. We just had to play along until we could leave again.  
  
         “You two smell disgusting,” he laughed, finally reaching us. His red eyes glittered in the faint light; he was genuinely pleased to see us. “You look disgusting too,” he teased.  
  
         “We’ve been traveling,” I replied, giving a pointed look at Viktor. He simply smiled and shrugged, which set Demetri laughing.  
  
         “You two have been fighting _again_? What was it this time?”  
  
         “Vell,” Viktor began, but Demetri seemed to change his mind.  
  
         “No, no,” he said, smiling. “Don’t say anymore. Save it for Aro; he loves this more than I do.”  
  
         “Do you think he’ll see us?” I asked. “We’ll drip on his carpet.”  
  
         “You can change first. Would you like cloaks again?”  
  
         “No,” Viktor said instantly, though he kept his tone polite. “Ve can’t stay long.”  
  
         “Too bad,” Demetri sighed, leading us deeper into the tunnels. It had been over a century and a half since I’d walked these corridors, but I still knew their every turn. He took us to the living chambers; I wondered vaguely if they had allowed anyone to take over our former quarters yet.  
  
         “There are clothes you can take in the laundry,” he said, ushering us toward the room. “I’ll wait here.”  
  
         “You are too gracious,” Viktor said, smiling and clapping our old acquaintance on the shoulder. He and I passed through the heavy door and into the steam filled room. The stench of human sweat hit my nose immediately. They still staffed this place with old women then.  
  
        Sure enough, there were three neat rows of them, all scrubbing, folding, and ironing at a furious pace. If they slowed down, they were killed. That’s why it was only ever old women down here; they were sure to slow down at some point. Off of the laundry were the seamstresses; this is where we went to request fresh clothing. We were offered pressed suits. Viktor and I dressed in silence, him reveling in his new finery. I took only the pants and the shirt, unwilling to wear the rest and _match_ him.  
  
         “We’ll have to tell them something,” I said, quietly enough that the noise of the laundry room would cover the sound before it reached Demetri’s ears.  
  
         “I vill explain,” Viktor muttered, fastening his cuff links.  
  
         “If Aro touches either of us—“  
  
         “He von’t touch us. Ve still curry favor here, no thanks to you.”  
  
         “Are you _still_ running their errands?”  
  
         “I return often enough to stay in their good graces,” he said coldly. “It is to both of our benefit that I do.” I glared at him and we returned to Demetri in a tense silence. He took our hands, a sign of affection amongst the Volturi, and we walked together through the darkened hallways. Soon enough, we entered the ever familiar throne room where Aro, Marcus, Caius, and the guard were waiting.  
  
         “Nataniel!” Jane gasped as soon as I was through the door. She leapt from Alec’s side to mine in an instant. I embraced her, kissing the top of her head as she hugged me.  
  
         “Hello, little sister.”  
  
         “You’ve been missed,” she said, returning to her twin. Alec nodded graciously and I winked in return. I had never been as close to him as I had been to Jane. It was fair to say that Jane had always been rather smitten with me.  
  
         “You have been missed, indeed!” Aro said delightedly, rising from his seat. “You have been so long away, Nataniel.”  
  
         “Yes, why do you not return as your father does?” Caius huffed.  
  
         “He is very nearly a nomad,” Viktor sighed, rolling his eyes. “I can hardly keep track of him.”  
  
         “I am pleased to be back,” I lied, smiling. Suddenly, I felt warmer toward Aro than I had a moment ago. Chelsea was hard at work.  
  
         “What has brought you here, my dear ones?”  
  
         “They’ve been fighting,” Demetri said, grinning.  
  
        Aro smiled and his eyes twinkled a bit. “Oh, naughty, naughty,” he teased. “Forever the disobedient son. What was it this time? Surely not a continuation of your dietary dispute?”  
  
         “No,” Viktor laughed. “I fear I vill never be able to correct _that_ behavior in him.”  
  
         “You have tried valiantly for many years,” Aro giggled, very clearly amused. “I fear you may be right. Though what was it, if you would share?”  
  
         “He’s continued his escapades with the old people. But vith his latest charge, he decided to reveal vhat he vas.”  
  
        Aro’s smile faltered and I wanted nothing more in that moment than to attack Viktor.  
  
         “The revelation scared the poor thing to death,” Viktor continued, brilliantly faking a laugh. “Its heart stopped. I showed up to offer my assistance and Nataniel felt that I was taking too much control of his life. He is _independent_.”  
  
         “Oh, my son,” Aro said, shaking his head gently. “I forget how young you still are; how idealistic. But I must ask, what possible motive could you have had to disclose such a thing?”  
  
         “He caught me in the sunlight,” I replied. “He saw me and I had to tell him; that kind of thing’s just not normal. He died of shock right there.”  
  
        Aro let out a peal of delighted laughter. “How wonderful that the issue resolved itself, then.” Apparently, he still regarded me as a member of the Volturi. If it had been anyone else, he would have checked this story with a touch, which would have ended it for us.  
  
         “Just make sure you’re more careful now,” Caius huffed. “We can’t have you going out in the sunlight around humans.”  
  
         “Brother, it was a harmless mistake,” Aro sighed. “And a onetime offense. How long have we known Nataniel? How loyal has he been to us?”  
  
         “He left, didn’t he?”  
  
         “He chooses not to partake of human blood,” Aro replied. “We are not a match for him in that respect. While he no longer wears our cloak, he continues to uphold our ideals. Did he not help us hunt the moon walkers?” Caius snorted, but did not speak again. He’d never really liked me.  
  
         “I do however think that perhaps a break is in order,” Aro announced, turning back to me. “Some time away from your humans will do you good. Take a year; ponder life.”  
  
         “Yes, Aro,” I submitted, bowing slightly.  
  
         “You wouldn’t be interested in a stay here with us, would you?” Jane looked hopeful; I shook my head.  
  
         “Vith all due respect, Aro,” Viktor replied, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I vould like to spend a year vith my son.”  
  
         “As you wish,” Aro sighed, sitting back down in his throne. “I will not force you to stay. Though, perhaps you might do me a favor as you go?”  
  
         “Vhat vould that be?” Viktor, ever the sycophant.  
  
         “Find out when the Cullens intend to move again,” he said nonchalantly, arranging his robes across his knees. “They stayed a bit too long in their last location. I’d just like to know that we won’t be cutting it close twice in a row.”  
  
         “Of course, Aro, ve’d be happy to oblige,” Viktor laughed. “Ve’ll be back vithin the hour, provided they are villing to talk.” Aro nodded and smiled graciously, signaling that we could go, and Viktor’s hand twitched on my shoulder. My stomach jumped at the momentary freefall before I found myself surrounded by snow.  
  
         “Is this Antarctica again?” I asked, following Viktor as he walked away.  
  
         “No, it’s Alaska,” he said over his shoulder. “This is vhere the Cullens are.”  
  
         “If you _ever_ pull that again,” I snarled, running to catch up with him. “I know those rats every bit as well as you do; you should have trusted me when I said we had to leave.”  
  
         “You vere hysterical,” he snapped back. “I thought you needed an intervention.”  
  
         “You should have listened.”  
  
         “I have told you the same thing a thousand times over and yet, I forgive you for those.”  
  
         “You could have gotten her killed, Viktor.”  
  
         “Yes, I could have killed your _mate_.” The word came out like an insult, but I refused to respond to it. If nothing else, he seemed to believe me that I was telling the truth about her, no matter how displeased he was by it. We crunched through the snow in silence, pointedly ignoring one another’s presence.  
  
        We were out in the middle of nowhere and it was very dark, though we could hear a town a short while away. It had been early morning when Viktor had taken me, but we had been fighting for most of the day. It was impossibly dark out where we were now, so I had no way to guess at what time it might be. As we neared the town, we saw two men badgering a middle aged woman behind a building. I couldn’t see their faces, so I didn’t hear any stories, but Viktor put out a hand to stop me.  
  
         “Ve’ll attract too much notice if ve valk in dressed like this,” he muttered, gesturing at our clothes. In negative twenty temperatures, we did look a little out of place. I followed Viktor’s eyes back to the two men, who were now running away from the crumpled form of the woman.  
  
         “I won’t look,” I sighed, turning around. I felt a slight breeze as he left and, a few minutes later, he returned with an armful of heavy winter gear and bright red eyes.  
  
         “Put these on,” he instructed, handing me a few layers. We pulled on the clothes, which fit us poorly, due to our height. If we slouched down, though, it looked fine. Once we were both dressed, Viktor handed me a small, brown handbag and nodded at the woman. I jogged over to her at a believable pace and crouched down at her side. This was Janice Ellerson, the wife of the chief of police and mother of two little girls.  
  
         “Ma’am, are you alright?” I asked, touching her gently. Her eye was rather swollen and her nose was bleeding. I held my breath.  
  
         “They attacked me,” she panted.  
  
         “Is this yours?” I asked, offering her the bag. She nodded and took it with a smile as I helped her to her feet.  
  
         “Thank you, dear,” she said as she brushed of the snow. “Don’t bother with me though; I’ll be fine. You wouldn’t happen to be one of the Cullen boys, would you?”  
  
         “Family friend, actually.”  
  
         “Oh, well, you look like him,” she said, considering me. “The doctor, I mean. Same eyes.”  
  
         “I get that a lot,” I laughed. “Take care.” I turned and walked back to Viktor as she trundled off through the snow.  
  
         “Cullen’s definitely here,” I said gruffly. “That woman knows him; she asked if I was his son.”  
  
         “You’re not,” he hissed. “Your _mine_ ; he already has his lovely _Edvard_ and the rest of his litter so he can fuck off…” He trailed off, muttering and I laughed a little. Viktor was an unchanging man and his centuries long rivalry with Carlisle Cullen—who thought of him as a dear friend—was proof of that.  
  
         “Let’s hurry up,” he sighed. “I told Aro ve’d be back vithin the hour.”  
  
         “Do you know where Carlisle lives?” I asked as we resumed walking.  
  
         “I know it’s this town,” he replied, peering around. “But I don’t know exactly vhere. Alice vill see us, though, and Carlisle vill come and get us. They don’t like to have vampires vandering around their town.” It took only five more minutes of walking for a sleek black car with chains on the tires to pull up next to us. The window slid down and there was an unfamiliar vampire in the driver’s seat with a lovely blond companion beside him. Immediately, I knew this was Emmet Cullen and the girl was Rosalie Hale.  
  
         “Are you, uh, Viktor?” Emmet asked. “And Nataniel?”  
  
         “Nathan, please.”  
  
         “Oh, alright,” said Emmet, relaxing a little. “So you’re the right guys?”  
  
         “Yes,” Viktor replied. “Are you…Jasper?”  
  
         “Emmet,” he said, sticking his hand out and clutching Viktor’s. “This is Rose. The old man sent us to pick you up. Alice saw you coming.”  
  
         “Told you,” Vikor whispered. I smiled and Emmet unlocked the doors so we could get in. Rose was staring avidly at me the whole time.  
  
         “Edward doesn’t ever give enough description,” she announced finally. “He said you looked like Jasper. He doesn’t know anything.”  
  
         “I dunno Rose,” Emmet said, peeking at me in the rearview. “I can see it. He looks more like Carlisle to be honest.”  
  
         “Now _that_ I can see,” Rose agreed. After a few minutes more of rather uncomfortable driving, we pulled up outside a large house. We all got out and Emmet held the door open to admit us. Carlisle was standing in the middle of the living room and smiled brightly as we came in.  
  
         “Nataniel, Viktor, how are you?” He asked, ushering us forward.  
  
         “It’s Nathan,” Emmet corrected, winking at me.  
  
         “Nathan and Viktor then,” laughed Carlisle. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.” We sat down together on a sofa and curious faced strangers began to filter down the stairs. First came Alice. She was immediately followed by Jasper and Esme. Their histories all came at once and it was a miracle I heard any of it. Unfortunately, the only other person in this house I’d met before was nowhere to be seen.  
  
         “Isn’t Edward here?” I asked, looking around.  
  
         “Looking for your old friend?” Esme asked happily. “Yes, he’s here. He’s sulking around upstairs.”  
  
         “I am not sulking,” Edward huffed, entering the room. “Hello, Nathan.”  
  
         _Hello “old friend_ ,” I thought to him. He cracked a smile and rolled his eyes, dropping down into an arm chair.  
  
         “Please,” Carlisle said, getting to his feet. “Allow me to make introductions. You both already know my wife, Esme, and of course you know Edward. These are my other children Rosalie, Emmet, Jasper, and Alice. Everyone, this is Viktor and Nathan Evanov.”  
  
         “He goes by Vulff now,” Viktor said ruefully. “My name is no longer acceptable.”  
  
         “Yes, Viktor,” I sighed. “Please make me seem like a disgruntled teenager. It’s not like I’m one of the oldest people in the room, or anything.” _Still such a charmer, isn’t he?_ Edward smiled again.  
  
         _Is he thinking terrible things about me?_  
  
         He nodded. I rolled my eyes. Viktor elbowed me.  
  
         “No secret conversations,” he hissed. “Anything you can say to Edvard, you can say to everyvone.”  
  
         “Vik, don’t,” I said flatly. “Not tonight, okay? I’m not in the mood for your hilarious jokes…like parenting.”  
  
         “Jasper, please,” Carlisle said as Viktor tensed. Suddenly, I was entirely relaxed. Viktor seemed to be just as calm. Jasper was the mood controller.  
  
         “Now,” Carlisle said, obviously happy to see our argument end. “What brings you two to Alaska?”  
  
         “The Volturi,” Viktor said benignly. “Ve’re doing them a favor. They vant to know vhen you plan to move next.”  
  
         “Why are they nosing in?” Edward asked, leaning forward.  
  
         “They thought you cut it a little close in the last place,” Viktor said out loud. “They just vant to make sure you von’t do it again.”  
  
         “We were planning on waiting another two years,” Esme replied. “But if it’s making the Volturi uncomfortable, we’d be happy to go sooner; let’s say two months or so? We already have our next spot picked out.”  
  
         “Two months sounds great,” I smiled. “Let’s go tell them right now.”  
  
         “Oh, no, Nataniel. I can do it myself.” Viktor smiled at me and then vanished.  
  
         “Oh you fucker!” I roared, leaping to my feet. “ _Are you fucking kidding me_?”  
  
         “Woah!” Emmet laughed. “Where did he just go?”  
  
        I rubbed my temples with one hand and tried to get a hold of myself. He’d left me in Alaska. At least it wasn’t Antarctica.  
  
         “Nathan,” Carlisle said genially. “Calm down, I’m sure he’ll be right back for you.”  
  
         “I don’t see that happening,” Alice said quietly. “Sorry.” It was not overly shocking news. I put my hands on my hips and sighed.  
  
         “May I borrow your phone?”  
  
         “Yes,” Edward said instantly. “This way.” He got up and led me to an office. Carlisle watched us go.  
  
         “Let’s clear out for a moment,” he told the others. “Edward and Nathan haven’t seen each other in a long time. Let them catch up.” The group in the living room dispersed throughout the house as Edward stopped by an old rotary on a desk.  
  
         “Carlisle likes antiques,” he said plainly, looking down at it.  
  
         “What’s wrong?” I asked, unsure if it was still okay to touch him. It used to be, but that was a long time ago.  
  
        He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk, but did not look up. I rolled my eyes.  
  
         “That’s not fair,” he said angrily. “You can’t call me names like that; I’m not being _dramatic_.”  
  
        It had been a while since I’d been around a mind reader; it took some adjusting. “I’m sorry,” I said genuinely. “But when something is clearly bothering you and you won’t tell me…”  
  
         “You found your mate?”  
  
        I stopped short. He was finally looking at me, but his expression was hard to read. “Yeah…I have. Her name is Aeva.”  
  
         “I know.”  
  
         “I _know_ you know,” I snapped, rolling my eyes again. “I’m sorry. I’m just…irritated. Viktor has been—“  
  
         “Hey,” he said, interrupting me. “You don’t have to explain. I _know_.”  
  
         “This is going well,” I said, now also folding my arms. “It feels really productive.”  
  
        He scoffed and looked away again. He looked exactly the same as I remembered him, which was to be expected. I didn’t feel the same way looking at his face as I used to though.  
  
         “Does it bother you that I’ve met my mate?” I asked.  
  
         “No.” I saw the lie in his head and he looked up angrily.  
  
         “It’s fucking annoying, isn’t it?” He and I had never been able to lie to one another.  
  
         “You swear a lot more than you used to.”  
  
         “I’m having a bad day.”  
  
         “Is it…nice?”  
  
         “My bad day?”  
  
         “No,” he said, cracking a smile. “Is it nice having a mate?”  
  
         “Yeah. It is.”  
  
         “Looks like I’m the last in the house,” he said ruefully. “Including our guests.”  
  
         “Viktor is still single and looking to mingle.”  
  
         “If Viktor is my mate, I _will_ kill myself.”  
  
         “Why don’t you say these things when he’s _here_!” I laughed, pushing him lightly. He smiled again and we resumed an awkward silence.  
  
         “It’s been seventy five years, Nathan.”  
  
         “Yes, and?”  
  
         “Am I…forgiven?”  
  
         “No,” I laughed. “You said some pretty offensive things in your last letter.”  
  
         “Well, I’m sorry,” he replied, not sounding very sorry. “I’m sorry it offended you. I thought of our friendship differently than you did.”  
  
         “Our friendship,” I laughed, rolling my eyes again. I was beginning to feel like I was also a perpetually sulky teenager. “Esme said that. I’m your old friend.”  
  
         “You were my best friend.”  
  
         “And you were mine,” I agreed. “But then you were an ass, so…here we are.”  
  
         “Do you know how to work the phone?” He sighed, ready to be done with our conversation.  
  
         “Do…do I know how to work a rotary phone?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “I was born in 1732,” I said, staring at him. “I think I remember how they work.”  
  
         “Well, you don’t have to be a dick about it,” he snapped. “I was just asking.”  
  
         “Now who’s swearing?”  
  
         “Just call her.”  
  
         “How do you know who I’m calling?” He stared at me for a moment. “It’s rude that you do that, you know? That you just read everything in my head.”  
  
         “Can’t help it. Believe me, I’d much rather listen to anything else than a houseful of people obsessing about their _mates_.”  
  
         “Edward, come on, that’s not fair. If you can hear all of _them_ , then you know I can’t help being like this.”  
  
         “It just sucks to be the last,” he finally admitted. “I’m older than all of them.”  
  
         “Give it time,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me, a little gentler this time. “I am sorry you found out like this.”  
  
         “It’s fine.”  
  
        He moved to leave the room, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. “Edward, do you know? Do you know…what she is?”  
  
         “She’s a human,” he said, looking at the ground again. “I know. I saw it in your head. Viktor’s too.”  
  
         “Please don’t…” It felt strange asking him for favors. “Please don’t tell anyone.”  
  
         “I won’t.” He was telling the truth.  
  
         “Thank you.” I let go of his arm and he left me alone in his father’s office. I sighed and put the receiver to my ear, dialing Aeva’s number. “Of course I know how to use a _rotary_ ,” I muttered.  
  



	15. Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva deals with the men in her life

###  _Aeva_

         “Mamá,” I sighed. “It really doesn’t matter.”  
  
         “It does,” she snapped. “We have to make sure everyone can go.”  
  
         “Everyone?” I laughed. “Who’s coming?”  
  
         “Well, you know, everyone,” she shrugged. “Me, Frida, Lidia, Holly, Abuela, and Luisa if she’s feeling up to it. And Frida’s going to have to bring Lupe too.”  
  
         “ _Mamá_ ,” I groaned, falling back onto the couch cushions. “Why do you do this?”  
  
         “It’s a tradition. Give me some time, I’ll find an appointment that works for everybody.”  
  
         “It’s just an ultrasound!”  
  
         “Cállate, hija. Let me be a mom.” She wandered out of the room, flipping through her datebook. I laughed and rubbed my hands over my belly. It was undeniable; I was no longer alone in my body. Soon, it would be time to go in and take a look at who was keeping me company. Mamá had that well in hand; my current mission was just waiting for a phone call. I had finished my lily painting and three more after that. My neck had started hurt from staring down at my easel, so Mamá had me sitting in the living room with an ice pack. It was annoying to have to keep shifting it around, but my ideal alternative was not available. Hopefully he was still alive, though. He’d said Viktor _probably_ wouldn’t kill him. We needed to work on his “encouraging” word choice.  
  
         “Sing with me, tía,” Chuy demanded from his place in front of the TV. Frida didn’t like for him to sit so close, but I wasn’t about to get up and drag him away, so his nose was practically touching the screen. His favorite show, _Backyardigans_ was starting another episode and he had the volume up at an inappropriate level. He required that anyone with the misfortune to be in the room when the theme song played sing it with him.  
  
         “Ay, Chuy, I don’t want to sing.”  
  
         “Canta!” He commanded, glaring at me over his shoulder.  
  
         “Your friends _The Backyardigans_!” I wailed, rolling my eyes.  
  
         “Cállate, hija!” Mamá shouted from the kitchen. “And turn that down, I’m on the phone.” I hadn’t even heard it ring, but Chuy and I sang quieter while I mashed the volume button to lower it.  
  
         “Now what were you saying?” I heard her ask. “You’re in Alaska?”  
  
         “Mamá!” I yelled. There were many things I loved about being Hispanic; shrieking from a comfortable position on the couch as an acceptable form of communication was one of them. “Mamá, who is it?”  
  
         “It’s Nathan.”  
  
         “WHAT?”  
  
         “Hija, I’m on the _phone_.”  
  
        I struggled to my feet and rushed to her, sticking out my hand. She looked at me for a moment before rolling her eyes and sighing, “Hang on, querido, Aeva wants to talk to you.”  
  
        I took the receiver from her with more force than was necessary, just to make my point, before pressing it to my ear. “Nathan?” I asked.  
  
         “Aeva.” His voice, though slightly distorted on the phone, was absolutely beautiful and dripping with relief.  
  
         “Oh, thank god,” I laughed, falling against the counter. “Oh, you’re okay. But you’re in Alaska? What’s in Alaska?”  
  
         “Viktor left me here with some old friends. It’s really one of the better outcomes I could have gotten, all things considered.”  
  
         “Did he hurt you?”  
  
         “Yeah, but don’t worry. Aeva, I swear to you: I’m fine.”  
  
         “Okay,” I said, unable to stop smiling. “When will you be home?”  
  
         “There is a flight leaving from Juneau in a few hours. There will be a couple of connections, but I’ll be back early tomorrow morning.”  
  
         “Tomorrow? It’s already been a day and a half!”  
  
         “Has it?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Viktor and I can get carried away. Can you wait for me for a few more hours? Can you kick your new boyfriend out in that amount of time?”  
  
         “Yeah, I’ll have him gone by then,” I laughed. “You might be interested to know that your competition _did_ call me up.”  
  
         “My competition?”  
  
         “Jason.”  
  
        He was silent.  
  
         “Jason?” I repeated. “You know, like the guy who—“  
  
         “I know who he is,” he said, now much more curt. “Why did he call? What did he want? He doesn’t think that—wait, no, no, I’m borrowing a phone. We’ll talk about this when I come back, alright?”  
  
         “Okay,” I agreed. “See you tomorrow. Oh, wait, will you need a ride from the airport?”  
  
        He paused. “No, I’ll…manage.”  
  
         “Oh.” He was going to run. It might actually be faster than if we went to pick him up.  
  
         “But I _will_ see you in the morning,” he continued. “I’m coming back to you, as promised.”  
  
         “I can’t wait. I love you.”  
  
         “I love you too,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice as he said it. “Goodbye.”  
  
         “Wait, wait! Mamá is looking at me like she wants to talk to you again.”  
  
         “Aeva, I love you, I love you, I love you. Please do not put your mother back on the phone.”  
  
         “Okay,” I laughed. “I love you, too. Actually goodbye.”  
  
         “Actually goodbye.”  
  
        He hung up first and I punched the air. I’d never felt so victorious and I didn’t know why. I hadn’t won anything; I hadn’t even _done_ anything, but I felt like a champion. In truth, it was probably because some part of me didn’t believe he’d actually come back. I was still waiting for him to run from me and my pregnancy and my big, messy family. And he _was_ running, but he was running to me. I beamed at my mother and she winked back.  
  
        Waiting for him without a distinct deadline had been terrible; counting down until he returned was agonizing. My head was frazzled and I could barely pay attention to anything. I just kept replaying the call in my head. _I’m coming back to you, as promised…I love you, I love you, I love you._ The day crawled by. It went even slower because Manuel and Holly had gone back to their own house on the other side of town. Miguelito, Tío, Papá, and Frida were all at work and Lidia was at school. The viejos were at the community center for some event, so all day it was just me, Mamá, Lupe, Chuy and _The Backyardigans_. I was certain that I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, but my day of horrible waiting had worn me out completely. I threw the blankets off of my new bed and straight onto the floor before laying down. I was out in minutes and woke up to the creak of my bedroom door.  
  
         “This creaks now?” He whispered. I lifted my head off my pillow and there he was, all six feet and seven inches of him, immaculately dressed in a crisp white button down and black slacks. His back was to me as he crouched to examine my hinges.  
  
         “Nathan,” I whispered into the dark. He looked over his shoulder at me, his smile wide on his face. His honey colored eyes were almost glowing in the dim light and I could see the dimple on his left cheek.  
  
         “Hey,” he whispered back.  
  
         “Come here!”  
  
        He obliged me instantly; one moment he was by the door and the next he was in the bed with me, his arms wrapped around my waist and his face nestled against my neck. I laughed and threw my arms around his neck, squeezing with all my might. He breathed deeply, touching his cold lips to my skin. I had missed this; I had missed him. I put a hand under his chin and he instantly pressed his mouth to mine. One of his hands was in my hair, the other was on my back, pressing me against him. His kisses were firm, urgent. He decorated my face, neck, and shoulders with them. I returned the favor, raking my hand through his beautiful curls. After a moment, I realized that he was breathing funny, in these short little gasps. When I looked back up at him, he was staring at me and seemed unable to speak.  
  
         “Are you…crying?” He laughed and nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. I smiled at him, unsure of how to react. I had brought him to tears—sort of. I just stared back at him and my eyes had begun to prick when someone suddenly screamed.  
  
         “HE’S BACK!”  
  
        I looked over Nathan’s shoulder to see Miguelito standing in the hall beaming at us. In mere moments, we were surrounded by my family as everyone attempted to welcome Nathan at once. There was much yelling and laughing and kissing of cheeks. Doña Luisa got a hold of one of his hands and was _not_ going to let go. Nathan was still sort of sobbing and kept me under his arm. I noticed that Papá was looking at us, Nathan in particular, with his head cocked; he seemed to be considering something.  
  
         “So where were you?” Lidia asked as everyone led Nathan into the living room. “Were you hiding out somewhere? Did you eat anything?”  
  
         “Did he eat anything?” Miguelito laughed. “You ask the weirdest questions.”  
  
         “I was in Alaska with my dad,” Nathan replied, setting his cheek against my head. “And no, I didn’t eat.” Lidia still seemed determined to figure out what Nathan ate, but she seemed mollified for the moment that he’d come home.  
  
         “Leave again and I’ll kill you,” Luisa said, smiling sweetly up at him. He laughed and bent down, kissing her on her cheek. Everyone laughed a little, except for Papá, who was still watching us very closely. After a long while of talking, he finally suggested I take Nathan back upstairs and let him lie down for a bit. I dragged Nathan from the room right away, eager for time to be alone with him. As soon as I’d shut the door, he swept me up into a kiss.  
  
         “Woah,” I laughed as he pulled away. “You’re so excited!”  
  
         “Yes,” he agreed. “I missed you.”  
  
         “I missed you too.”  
  
        He gave me another kiss and then we went to the bed to lay down. I leaned against the head board and he laid sideways, with his head in my lap and his legs dangling off the edge.  
  
         “Your head is heavy,” I commented, twirling one of his ringlets around my finger.  
  
         “I can move if you’d like.”  
  
         “No, stay.”  
  
        He smiled and closed his eyes, apparently enjoying the feel of my hands in his hair. It was like he’d never left; like the incident with Viktor had never happened. But, at the same time, there was this feeling in my chest that just wouldn’t let me forget how much it had hurt to face the possibility of him being taken from me. I’d only known him for a few months and yet, staring down at his angel’s face in my lap, I was sure I’d never loved anyone like this before. I was fairly certain that _no one_ had ever loved anyone the way I loved Nathan. I jumped at a nudge in my belly.  
  
        Nathan’s eyes snapped open. “It moved,” he said quietly, turning to look at my stomach. I rolled my tee-shirt up so I could see it and we waited. After a few moments, I felt another nudge and we both saw my skin move.  
  
         “Woah,” I whispered, running my hand over the place the baby had kicked. Nathan looked up at me, his eyes bright.  
  
         “Woah,” he agreed, grinning. He leaned his head forward and kissed my belly before laying back down. Suddenly, I was conflicted.  
  
        I loved him more than anything. Did that include the baby inside me? Wasn’t I obligated to love my baby more than Nathan? I mean, technically, I had the baby before I had him. But what if I always preferred Nathan to my child? I didn’t think I could bear the idea of always loving Nathan more than my baby, but I couldn’t see it any other way. Nathan filled me up; I had no room in my heart for anything else. So where would the baby go?  
  
         “Frida is coming.”  
  
         “Huh?” I asked, coming out of the recesses of my brain.  
  
         “Frida is coming,” Nathan repeated.  
  
         “Play dead.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “Hermanita,” she called, opening the door.  
  
         “Cállate!” I hissed. “He’s asleep!”  
  
         “Oh, sorry,” Frida said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Mamá wants to know if you’re going to eat with us.”  
  
         “Probably not. I’ll just warm something up later.”  
  
         “Okay, I’ll tell her.” She turned to leave, but stopped short and jogged over to the bed.  
  
         “What are you doing?” I asked.  
  
         “He looks fake, doesn’t he?” She whispered. “I mean, como una muñeca, sí?”  
  
         “No,” I laughed. “I don’t think he looks like a doll.”  
  
         “Well, whatever,” she laughed before kissing my head and leaving the room. As soon as she shut the door, Nathan opened his eyes.  
  
         “Muñeca means doll?” He asked.  
  
         “Or wrist, depending on the sentence.”  
  
        He shook his head a little, annoyed at the Spanish language.  
  
         “Do you speak another language?” I asked.  
  
         “I speak quite a few,” he replied. “Mostly eastern European ones, and most Asian languages as well.”  
  
         “But no Spanish?”  
  
         “Would you like me to learn? Luisa has given me a good start.”  
  
         “It would be nice.”  
  
         “Then I’ll learn.”  
  
         “What, just like that?” I laughed.  
  
         “I have a good memory,” he said, closing his eyes again. “I’ll learn for you.”  
  
         “Thank you,” I laughed. “I have another question.”  
  
         “And what is that, love?”  
  
        I smiled at the term of endearment. “I was wondering what happened after Viktor took you.”  
  
         “Oh,” he sighed, sitting up. “Well, we fought…for a long time.”  
  
         “That’s it?”  
  
         “No. He got tired of it and decided I needed an intervention. So he took me to Volterra, hoping to get the Volturi to step in.”  
  
        My eyes went wide. “So…they…they know?”  
  
         “Oh!” He gasped, wrapping his arms around me. “No, no, he didn’t tell them. I’m so sorry I scared you like that. No, of course not; they don’t know anything about us.”  
  
         “Why not? Why’d he change his mind about getting them involved?”  
  
         “I told him that you’re my…” He stopped short.  
  
         “Your what?”  
  
        He sucked air through his teeth and looked away.  
  
         “Your _what_?”  
  
         “Um…well, there is a term that vampires use,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “It describes a bonded pair; a couple that can’t be broken up.”  
  
         “And the term is?”  
  
         “Well…using that language, you would be…you would be called my mate.”  
  
         “Your mate?” I snorted, deeply amused. “That’s very nice.”  
  
         “It’s just a term,” he said apologetically. “But it carries a lot of weight among vampires. It made Viktor listen; it made him change his mind. So he decided not to rat us out, but we did end up doing a favor for the Volturi anyway.”  
  
         “Why? What did they have you do?”  
  
         “Viktor used to be a messenger for them; he still does it occasionally,” he shrugged. “They sent us to check on the Cullens and make sure they were going to move before people got suspicious.”  
  
         “Who are the Cullens?”  
  
         “They’re the yellow eyed coven I told you about,” he explained, shifting us so that we were lying down. “They all live like me. They’re the biggest coven next to the Volturi, actually. Carlisle is their leader; Viktor and he used to be close. Then there’s his wife, Esme, and they adopted a bunch of others. The oldest is Edward, a mind reader. We used to be very close. Then there’s Emmet, Rosalie, Alice, and Jasper. They pose as students and Carlisle works as a doctor.”  
  
         “Wow, they sound... really good. Have you ever thought about living with them?”  
  
         “Occasionally,” he laughed. “They were in the back of my mind. The only problem is they all _look_ like teenagers; I’m too old. What would I pose as?”  
  
         “Carlisle’s brother?”  
  
         “Everyone does say we look alike,” he said thoughtfully. “But, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to live with a girl called Aeva Sanchez.”  
  
         “Oh, she’s that incredibly beautiful, funny, talented, and smart one, right?”  
  
         “Oh, good. You know her.”  
  
        He grinned at me and leaned down, pulling the blankets I’d tossed onto the floor back onto the bed. He kicked his shoes off and spread the comforter over the both of us, lifting his arm so that I could duck under it and lay against his side. We sat like that for a while in a happy silence, just glad to be back together. He was the first to speak.  
  
         “Aeva, where do you want to live?”  
  
         “The moon,” I murmured into his chest.  
  
         “I’ll put in a word with NASA, but there might be some wait time on that one,” he laughed. “Where would you like to live in the meantime? If you could pick anywhere in the world, where would it be?”  
  
         “Hm,” I said thoughtfully. “This would only be temporary? Only until the moon?”  
  
         “Of course,” he smiled.  
  
         “Well, I think the best place I’ve ever lived so far was Mexico.”  
  
         “You lived in Mexico? Why didn’t I know that? It didn’t come up in your history.”  
  
         “I guess it just wasn’t all that important at the time,” I laughed. “But yeah, I did. I was born in the states, but we went back to Oaxaca to wait with the viejos until we could move them here with us.”  
  
         “How old were you when you came back?”  
  
         “Six or seven I think.”  
  
         “So would you like to move back to Oaxaca with me?”  
  
         “What?” I laughed. “Is that what we’re planning? Just you and me? Oaxaca was only fun with my whole family; it also probably wouldn’t be the same since I’m not five years old. Also it’s in Mexico. They get quite a bit of sun there.”  
  
         “So where then?” He asked, looking down at me.  
  
         “I mean, I know there’s nothing in Allentown, but I kind of like it here.”  
  
         “Do you want to stay here, in this house?”  
  
         “God, no,” I laughed. “I mean, I love my family, but my own house would be nice.”  
  
         “Would I be allowed in your house?”  
  
         “Our house,” I corrected. It was out before I knew it was coming and I was shocked when I heard it. _Our house_.  
  
         “How big do you want our house to be?” Nathan didn’t seem to have been affected by it.  
  
         “Just little,” I replied. “It’ll only be us and the baby.”  
  
         “I suppose the three of us won’t need a huge house,” he allowed. “But you could still have one. I’ll get you anything you’d like, seriously.”  
  
         “What, you can just get a house? How will we afford it?”  
  
         “I have money,” he chuckled. “I’ll be 274 this year; I’ve been saving for a while, and Viktor’s no pauper either.”  
  
         “You two _literally_ just had a death match. He’d loan you money?”  
  
         “He’d _give_ me money. It doesn’t matter if we’re fighting, money is nothing to him. It’s hard for it to matter when you don’t need to buy anything to live. But, if I find you a house, do you want to see it before I buy it? Do you want to pick it?”  
  
         “Why do you want to give me a house so badly?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.  
  
         “You’ve mentioned that you didn’t want to stay here forever,” he replied, running a finger across my cheekbone. “It’s something that I can do for you.”  
  
        I was still a little shocked by his ideas about money, but it would be nice to have a place away from the family. Really, it would be nice to have a place with Nathan; somewhere we didn’t have to pretend or lie about what he was. Somewhere with doors that my siblings didn’t come bursting through every time I got a moment alone with him. I chewed my lip as I thought and he waited patiently for my response.  
  
         “I guess…if it isn’t a hassle to you…”  
  
         “Not at all.”  
  
         “Then, I mean, sure. A…a little house in Allentown.”  
  
         “Would you like to pick it out?”  
  
         “No,” I said, lying back down. “You can choose.” We laid quietly for a while before I remembered that I had news. “Hey, I have an ultrasound in three weeks; Mamá scheduled it.”  
  
         “Do I get to come?”  
  
         “Nope.”  
  
         “What?” He asked, sounding offended. “Why can’t I come? I want to see the baby too.”  
  
         “It’s a Sanchez family tradition,” I laughed. “Only the women know about the baby. We get to know its sex and we’re the only ones there for the birth. When it’s all said and done, one of us brings the baby out to the father.”  
  
         “That’s stupid, I want to see it too. Fine. You get your ultrasound,” he huffed. “I’ll get us a house.”  
  
         “While I’m at the appointment? You realize an ultra sound only takes like, half an hour.”  
  
         “Your appointment will take longer. Besides, it takes less than three seconds to hand over money.”  
  
         “You know what, I’m not going to argue with you on this one,” I laughed, shaking my head. “Do what you do, Nathan.”  
  
         “Okay then,” he murmured, coming very close. “I’m going to get you a house. Also, what did Jason want when he called?”  
  
         “He’s looking to reconcile.”  
  
         “Think you’ll take him up on it?”  
  
         “No,” I said, looking up at his gorgeous face. “Not a chance.”  
  
        Nathan and I went back down stairs around dinner time. I’d intended to stay with him the entire day, but he literally pushed me out of the room to go eat with my family. The evening passed uneventfully and soon, Nathan and I were back upstairs in bed. I was doing my very best to fake sleep.  
  
         “Aeva, I know you’re awake,” he whispered after a while.  
  
         “How?” I demanded. “I’m working so hard at it!”  
  
         “You’re breathing too much,” he replied teasingly. “When people are asleep they only breathe about once a minute. Now go to bed. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”  
  
        He wasn’t lying; when I woke up, I was in the same exact position I’d fallen asleep in and he was still right there next to me.  
  
         “Good morning,” he said, smiling down at me.  
  
        And that was what I woke up to after that. Every night I went to sleep with him curled around me, and every morning I woke up with him looking at me, waiting for me to open my eyes. The family was very keen to keep an eye on Nathan and I, so we were rarely left on our own. They seemed to think that, if left unsupervised for too long, he might be kidnapped again. However, when I woke up in the mornings, it was just he and I.  
  
         “Did you sleep well?” He asked one day, as I rolled over.  
  
         “Very well, thank you,” I laughed, voice still hoarse from sleep. He was grinning at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. He leaned down and kissed my cheek just as we heard Mamá calling for him from the kitchen.  
  
         “Duty calls,” he sighed, before tossing the covers back and going to the dresser. He had been fully integrated into the family, which was both wonderful and very irritating. Mamá had him help her with every meal, since he was so quick with a knife. Lidia had also taken to spreading out her homework and calling him over to help her puzzle it out. Papá liked to have him change light bulbs and smoke detector batteries, since he didn’t need a step stool to reach them. My family had warmed to him entirely, but it meant they took up a good amount of his time. The idea of having a house where it was just the two of us was becoming steadily more appealing.  
  
        I rolled over and stared rather blatantly at him as he dressed. He caught me and shook his head, laughing, before going out the door. I showered and dressed while he was downstairs helping with breakfast. I decided that I should finally try to tidy up my room and began putting things away. Once all the canvases were off the floor and stowed back in my closet, I could see the floor again. A stain of black paint still peeked out from under my rug; that spill was the reason I got the rug in the first place. I smiled down at it for a while before I realized just how much I liked that shade of green with black. It was beautiful.  
  
        An image began to swirl in my head immediately; black on green. Grass green, no lighter; Sea foam. No, more earthy; Sage green. In less than a minute, I’d yanked an abandoned portrait off my easel and thrown a new piece of stretched canvas up. The texture was wrong though, I needed something with more tooth. I instantly knew the proper way to change the surface.  
  
        I went to my big bin of paints and pulled out an empty mason jar and poured in bright green acrylic paint. I added a fourth of brown and took out two sticks of school chalk, which I ground into a fine powder. I stirred the paints and powder together until it was smooth and began applying it to the canvas. Just like I’d planned, the acrylic held on to the slick surface and the chalk make it dry matte. The image in my head swirled again and I reached for black paint; no, pastel. No, I needed charcoal; definitely charcoal.  
  
        I sharpened a pencil and began a rough outline. A big circle. Now a head. A head in profile. Looking to the right. Tilted up. Now a neck. Now shoulders. The shoulders fade out. Back to the face.  
  
        Straight nose. Small nostrils. Full lips. Big eyes. Heavy lids. Thick eye lashes. Nathan? No, long hair. Long hair pulled back. Long hair piled up. Messy. With leaves and roses. No, poppies. No, violets. Violets and ivy and twigs and glossy backed beetles like barrettes. This was a nymph, a spring goddess.  
  
        Her face and hair filled the space and she was beautiful. I put down my pencil and picked up a bar of charcoal. With every stroke and touch, she became more defined. She was proud and haughty but relaxed; she was unshakeable. Nothing shocked her.  
  
        Her hair was deepest black and shone like glass. The beetles looked dull in comparison, but were needed to hold her curls in place. I had just begun shading her ear, which ended in a slight point, when I heard my door open.  
  
         “What are you doing?”  
  
        I turned and Nathan was leaning against the door frame, legs crossed at the ankles and eyebrows raised in curiosity.  
  
         “I’m just…drawing.” He came closer to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.  
  
         “Did you just do this?”  
  
         “Yeah, but it’s not done. I still have to do the highlights and things.”  
  
         “May I watch?”  
  
         “Oh, sure, I guess. But you’ll have to let my arms go.”  
  
        His hands were gone in an instant and he was seated on the ground beside me, legs stuck out in front while he reclined against the bed frame. He smiled up at me expectantly and I rolled my eyes.  
  
         “You need to calm down,” I muttered, smoothing the shading. The black was done; now I picked up white and began adding it in and sharpening details. Nathan watched in silence for twenty minutes as I worked. Finally, with one last tap of white on the eye, I was finished and set my pencils down. I felt unbelievably satisfied.  
  
         “It’s beautiful.”  
  
         “You think so?” I asked, turning around in my chair. His eyes were locked on my drawing, roving over all the details. “Hey,” I said, getting his attention. “Come here, you have something on your face.”  
  
         “Do I?” he asked, leaning forward. I reached out and wiped my charcoal covered fingers across his mouth. His eyes widened and he laughed incredulously. I burst out laughing too as he got to his feet, surely about to get me back for my prank.  
  
         “Estrella, are you ready?” Mamá called, interrupting. She came in, looked at us, and sighed. “You’re all filthy and you got Nathan with that stupid ‘something on your face’ trick, didn’t you? Go wash your hands and help him clean up; we have to leave in ten minutes.”  
  
         “Leave for what?”  
  
         “Your ultrasound, hijita! Now go wash. You look like you slept in a fire pit.”  
  
        I laughed and went to the bathroom with Nathan to inspect the damage. She was right. All my fingers were black, there were smudges on my face and neck, but I looked happy. Nathan was grinning at me in our reflection. He let me wipe his mouth clean before he leaned down to kiss me. I went to touch him, but he caught my wrist and pulled away.  
  
         “Fool me once,” he teased, looking down at my black fingertips. I was still laughing as I scrubbed myself clean.  
  
        About forty five minutes later, I was lying on a hospital bed as the technician pulled the machine over.  
  
         “Can you hurry up, please?” Frida huffed, shifting Lupe to her other hip. Mamá was tapping her foot and Abuela actually snapped her fingers. Lidia was simply glaring daggers at the frazzled woman and Holly was trying her hardest not to laugh. Abusing the technician was part of the fun in an ultra sound; Holly was still new at it.  
  
         “Erm, okay,” the woman said, coming over and lifting my shirt. “We just need to apply the gel; this will be cold.” She squeezed the gel out of the tube and pressed the sensor to my skin. Immediately, the foggy shapes of two legs appeared on the monitor. The woman changed the position and we could see a head and hands.  
  
         “That is your beautiful, healthy baby, Miss Sanchez. Would you like to know the sex?” I nodded excitedly and the lady shifted the sensor again. “Well I am pleased to tell you that you’ll be having a little boy in a few months!”  
  
        These words were followed by much cooing and excited squeals from my family. I, on the other hand was entirely in awe of the figure of my little son on the screen. The picture was black on green with his head was in profile, looking up and to the right.  
  
         I should have drawn a boy.  
  



	16. Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, anyone's father can make you uncomfortable

###  _Nathan_

        Aeva had just left with the rest of the women and I was getting ready to head out as well. Chuy decided that he would follow me around. I started up the stairs and he came hopping after, bouncing on the steps.  
  
         “Nathan and Aeva, sitting in a tree,” he sang. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the baby in the baby carriage.” I laughed and went into Aeva’s room for my shoes. I smiled at the new drawing on her easel and went to my black boots at the side of the bed. When I bent down to pick them up, Chuy leapt onto my back. I froze in momentary terror.  
  
         “I’m a monkey,” he declared. “I can climb trees. You’re a tree, Nathan. Be a tree.”  
  
         “Can I put my shoes on first?”  
  
         “Yes. Just do it like a tree.”  
  
         “How do trees put on shoes?” I laughed.  
  
         “Like this,” he sighed, sliding down and tugging his own sneakers off. He began to put them back on, swaying and making an interesting variety of _whooshing_ noises. I quickly slid my boots on while he wasn’t looking and after about four minutes, he had his feet back in his Batman shoes.  
  
         “That’s how trees do it.”  
  
         “Well, I’ve already put them on like a person, I’m sorry. Do you need me to tie your laces?”  
  
         “Sí, porfavor,” he said, scrambling up onto the bed. He accidentally stepped on a lace and began to topple over. I’d caught him before I had even processed the situation.  
  
         “Thanks,” he grunted, still struggling to get on top of the bed. Cautiously, I put a hand on either side of him, under his arm pits like Aeva did, and lifted him up. I set him on the covers and he plopped down and scooted around to face me.  
  
         “Laces please,” he reminded. “No double knots.” I nodded and began tying his shoes while doing a victory dance on the inside. I’d picked him up and I hadn’t hurt him at all. He was the youngest human I’d ever handled and nothing had gone wrong. It wasn’t even difficult to gauge how hard to grip or anything; it was almost instinctual. Once his laces were in bows, I stood up and offered him my hands. He grinned and leapt from the bed onto my chest. I caught him easily and carried him back to the kitchen.  
  
         “Got a new best friend, huh?” Manuel asked, smiling at us from the sink. He and Holly had come back for another visit  
  
         “No, soy mono,” Chuy replied. “Nathan is my tree.”  
  
         “Oh, my mistake.” Just then, the back door flew open and Mercedes came in, panting and clutching a rock.  
  
         “Here, daddy,” she huffed, handing it to Manuel. “I found another.”  
  
         “Did the fossil thief try to take it?” He asked, setting it in the sink.  
  
         “Yes,” Mercedes replied. “But I was too fast for him.”  
  
         “What are you playing?” Chuy asked, intrigued.  
  
         “I’m not playing,” Mercedes sneered. “I’m a arch-cologist and I’m hunting fossils.”  
  
         “Can I help?”  
  
         “Sure. Come on.”  
  
        I set Chuy down and he and his cousin darted back out the door. I glanced back at Manuel to see that he was washing the rock his daughter had given him. When he was finished, he set it in a large and very full bucket at his feet. From the looks of it, Mercedes was a very good fossil hunter.  
  
         “So who is the fossil thief?” I asked.  
  
         “Miguel,” Manuel replied. “He found a ski mask in the closet and has been chasing Sadie around all morning. He looks like he’s going to die.” I peeked out the window to see Miguelito, wearing a black mask, doubled over and clutching a lawn chair for support.  
  
         “Think we should go help him?”  
  
         “Nah, he’s fine.”  
  
         “Alright then,” I chuckled. “So what constitutes a fossil?”  
  
         “Pretty much anything shiny that she finds or anything that Miguelito is holding. So far we have rocks, coins, can tabs, a vacuum extension, and Miguel’s keys, phone, and wallet. Oh, and a spoon.”  
  
         “Nice.”  
  
         “Right?” He laughed. “So where are you going? You look ready to leave.”  
  
         “Well, I was actually going to visit a realtor,” I replied. “Closing the deal on a house.”  
  
         “Do you sell houses?”  
  
         “No, I’m buying,” I said, gauging his reaction. He seemed a little stunned.  
  
         “For you and Aevita?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “You have the money for that?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Moving far?”  
  
         “Not particularly.”  
  
         “Look, you can’t take her back to New York,” he said flatly. “It’s not happening.”  
  
         “No, it’s not,” I agreed. “She and I are staying in Allentown.”  
  
         “Oh, uh, good,” he said awkwardly. “But isn’t it a little soon?”  
  
         “We’ve been planning this for a while,” I lied. He smiled and nodded.  
  
         “Well, alright. Have fun then. Are you gonna need a car?”  
  
         “Yes,” I answered, though I wasn’t sure. I didn’t actually know where the house was yet, since I didn’t have a house in mind. Manuel just nodded and fished some keys out of the bucket of fossils.  
  
         “Take Miguelito’s ride,” he said, tossing them to me. “I mean, technically, it’s Tío’s, but whatever.”  
  
         “Are you sure he won’t mind?”  
  
         “We’re all family here,” he laughed. I thanked him and headed out the door. The keys I had were to a little red Corolla that Miguelito had clearly taken very good care of; I was particularly careful while I drove it.  
  
        I wound my way through the streets looking for any yard with a ‘For Sale’ sign. Some of the houses were very interesting, like a few old Victorians I found. But those were large, and Aeva had asked for a small house. When I got to the other side of town, I found a little park with a duck pond, a few swings, and a big red slide. This corner of Allentown was maybe ten minutes from Jaime and Maria’s place. The location was pretty perfect, now I just needed a house. The first two I found were definite no’s. One was small enough, but was a violent shade of green and had a goat standing on the front porch; I figured that was not a good omen. The second house was simply falling apart. I was beginning to wonder if there was anything worth having when I passed it.  
  
        It was a little white two-story with a steeped roof and a short fence. There was no path from the gate to the front door, just worn down grass, and the screen door looked broken; but still, I was intrigued. I pulled into the driveway, which led to a detached one-car garage, and walked over for a closer inspection. There was a little front porch with a swing on it and the front door was candy apple red. I peeked around the side of the house and saw that the fence continued around the back yard, which was right against the tree line of the woods. The house was incredibly plain and the yard had absolutely no plants, but from the outside, it was still perfect. I took out my phone and dialed the realtor’s number on the For Sale sign.  
  
         “Hello, you’ve reached Shea Halforth,” a woman said. “How can I help you?”  
  
         “Hi, I’m actually outside the house you have for sale in Allentown,” I replied. “441 Penbrook St. I’m interested in a tour. When’s the earliest that could happen?”  
  
         “You’re interested in the Penbrook house?” Shea asked, sounding shocked. “Well, I can give you a tour now, if you’d be willing to wait for me to get there. I’m at my office now. It’ll be about ten minutes.”  
  
         “I’d be happy to wait.”  
  
         “Great,” she said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “Can I get your name, sir?”  
  
         “Nathan Evanov.”  
  
         “Wonderful. I see you in a moment, Mr. Evanov.”  
  
        I hung up and went to lean against the car. The house fit Aeva’s description, though it needed a bit of work. But Aeva was an artist. She would want something she could work with; something she could make her own. I would give this to her as a blank canvas and help her decorate it any way she pleased. I was trying to imagine how she’d make it look, but only managing to conjure an image of a log cabin. Nearly three centuries in and my imagination was still pitifully lacking. I turned my head when a shiny black car pulled up on the opposite side of the street. A pretty, middle aged woman in a business suit got out and hurried to me. This was Shea Halford, divorced mother of two and aspiring real-estate mogul.  
  
         “Hi, Mr. Evanov?” She asked, extending a hand. “I’m Shea Halforth.”  
  
         “Hello Ms. Halforth,” I smiled, kissing her knuckles. She blushed and smoothed her hair.  
  
         “Um, well, um, shall we go in?” I nodded and she led me around to the gate and then up to the front door where she fumbled with the key for a moment before ushering me in. The house was empty and the floors needed to be swept, but other than that, it was very nice. The front door led into a large room, presumably the living area. The room had a big window with a bench seat that looked out onto the porch and a coat closet, but it was otherwise unremarkable. The living room took up the front half of the first floor and a short hallway led to the kitchen. The floor was done in what was once beautiful Spanish tile; now it was in dire need of a good scrubbing. The counter tops were an unusual olive green color that matched the accents in the tile. The counters ran along half of the room, wrapping around to a little breakfast bar. The other half of the room was open.  
  
         “This space is perfect for a dining area,” Shea said, giving a grand gesture. She then hurried into the kitchen portion and opened a floor to ceiling cupboard affixed to the wall. “Ample storage space for dry goods. The fridge is fairly small, but it should suffice for a bachelor like yourself.”  
  
         “I’m not a bachelor,” I replied, peering around. A door beside the cupboard caught my eye. “Where does that lead?”  
  
         “Ah, this leads to the bathroom,” Shea said, opening it and ushering me in. It was a half bath, but larger than I’d expected. I turned off the light and came back out. Shea was staring at me with her head cocked.  
  
         “Are you engaged?” She asked.  
  
         “No.”  
  
         “Oh, I was just wondering because you don’t have a wedding ring,” she replied, “and you said you weren’t a bachelor.”  
  
         “And you wear a wedding ring but didn’t correct me when I called you ‘miss’,” I said, cocking my head at her. She blushed and hid her left hand in a folder.  
  
         “Well, if you’ll follow me this way, we can go upstairs.”  
  
        The stair case was in the far corner of the dining area, tucked into the wall. There was an opening the size of a door with one carpeted step and then a sharp left turn to the rest of the stairs. We padded our way up; the top floor was carpeted. There was a small landing at the top of the stairs where we stopped.  
  
         “Now, this is a two bedroom house,” she explained. “Both bedrooms are fairly spacious. I’ll show you the master suite first.” Shea took me through a door on the left that led to a room with two huge windows that looked into the back yard. The room was slightly smaller than the kitchen and dining room. There were two doors at the end of the room.  
  
         “This is a walk in closet,” Shea explained, opening one door. “And the master bath.” She opened the other door and I looked in. This room was clearly positioned atop the down stairs bathroom and was roughly the same size, but with his and hers sinks and a shower stall. Shea then led me back onto the landing and opened one of two doors in the opposite corner.  
  
         “This is the other bathroom,” she said, allowing me to enter. This bathroom was very similar to the master bath, but had a shower with a bath tub.  
  
         “The last room up here is the second bedroom,” she said, opening the final door and going through. I followed her in and was shocked to see the room all done in powder blue with a border of large yellow ribbons painted around the top of the walls.  
  
         “This was a nursery,” she sighed. “But it would make a lovely office space.”  
  
         “No, I think we’ll leave it a nursery,” I said, smiling at the ribbons.  
  
         “Is your partner expecting?”  
  
         “She’s about five months along,” I replied.  
  
         “Looking forward to fatherhood?”  
  
         “Very much so, and I’ll take it.”  
  
         “I’m…sorry?”  
  
         “The house,” I clarified. “I’ll take it.”  
  
         “I—you’ll take it?” She asked in disbelief. “You don’t want to have an inspector or your girlfriend look at it? You don’t even know the price.”  
  
         “How much?”  
  
         “$125,000.”  
  
         “I’ll take it,” I said, taking out my check book. “Who should I make this out to?”  
  
         “You’re buying it _right now_?” She laughed. “Hang on, let me call the owners.” She left to room, but I heard the entire conversation anyways.  
  
         “Hey Bob,” Shea said. “Is Lisa around?”  
  
         “Yeah, why?”  
  
         “I’ve found a buyer. We can sell at full asking price.”  
  
         “Really? That’s great!”  
  
         “Yeah. He wants to buy it now.”  
  
         “What do you mean?”  
  
         “I mean I’m in the house with him right now and he just pulled out his check book.”  
  
         “Who is he?”  
  
         “I don’t know,” she laughed. “He said his name’s Nathan Evanov.”  
  
         “Sounds like a big shot.”  
  
         “He doesn’t look like one.”  
  
        I glanced at my reflection in the window. I was wearing a black v-neck sweater over a white tee shirt and close fitting, gray jeans. I thought I looked fine, though not very much like a big shot, I had to admit.  
  
         “So why does he want the house?”  
  
         “I don’t know,” Shea whispered. “He says he’s got a pregnant girlfriend though.”  
  
         “How old is he?”  
  
         “In his twenties. Real handsome, too. I mean, looking at him, it’s pretty easy to see why she let him knock ‘er up.”  
  
         “Well, hell, Shea, let him have it,” Bob laughed. “If he’s ready to buy it, let him buy it.”  
  
         “You’re sure?”  
  
         “Yeah,” he laughed. “I mean, we’re trying to get rid of it. We’re not living there anymore. What the hell. Sell it to him.”  
  
         “Alrighty then. I’ll come over later with the check and some champagne.”  
  
         “Ha, sounds great. I’ll see you later then, Shea.” They hung up and a moment later, Shea returned with a smile.  
  
         “The seller’s ready if you are.”  
  
         “Wonderful,” I grinned, starting to fill out the check. “Who should I make this out to?”  
  
         “Robert Fuller.”  
  
         “Right,” I said, adding my signature. “There you are. Is there any additional paper work?”  
  
         “Yeah,” she laughed, opening her folder. After a few minutes of form signing, Shea handed me a deed and a key. We both left smiling and as she headed off to buy champagne, I drove back to Jaime and Maria’s. The van the ladies had taken to the hospital was already parked in the drive way and I pulled in behind it. When I walked into the house, I could hear that most of the family was in the living room, with a few stragglers in the kitchen.  
  
         “Hey Nathan,” Miguelito said brightly as I walked in.  
  
         “Hey,” I said, tossing him his keys. “Thanks for letting me use the car.”  
  
         “No problem,” he laughed. “I didn’t even know I’d lent it you.”  
  
        I chuckled. “How many fossils did you find?”  
  
         “We found a million!” Chuy screeched, doing a running leap at me. I caught him up and rested him on a hip, like Frida did. “Can I throw something like you did? I want to throw something.”  
  
         “Sure,” I said, taking my new house key out of my pocket. “Throw this to Aeva, nice and gentle though.”  
  
         “Here Tía,” he laughed, tossing her the key. She caught it and stared at me quizzically.  
  
         “What’s this?”  
  
         “Your house key.”  
  
         “I don’t have a house key.”  
  
         “Yes you do.”  
  
         “Not for this house.”  
  
         “It’s not for this house.”  
  
        It took her a moment to catch on, but when she did, her smile was huge. “Nathan, did you buy us a house?”  
  
         “Yes…yes I did.”  
  
         “Oh my god!” She laughed, struggling to her feet and then hurrying over to me. She hugged me tightly and Chuy patted her head.  
  
         “You two have your own place now?” Maria asked from the sofa. “When did this happen?”  
  
         “I closed the deal while you were gone,” I replied. “We are now the owners of a little two story on the other side of town. It’s barely ten minutes away.”  
  
         “When are we moving in?” Aeva asked excitedly.  
  
         “Whenever you want,” I laughed. “But unless you’ve been holding out on me, we don’t have any furniture. We’ll need to go shopping.”  
  
         “I can do that.”  
  
         “I have off work tomorrow,” Jaime said unexpectedly. “I’ll help you take your things over, Nathan. Just us two.”  
  
         “Oh, sure,” I said awkwardly. Jaime looked like he was measuring me, but Aeva was _beaming_ at him. Later that night, after dinner, we were back up in her room filling card board boxes with Frida.  
  
         “So why are you so happy that your dad and I are moving our stuff tomorrow?” I asked, assembling another box.  
  
         “It’s your Man To Man time,” Frida laughed, sharing a look with Aeva. “He does it to every boyfriend. It’s when he lets you know what he thinks of you.”  
  
         “Do you think he’ll tell me he hates me?”  
  
         “No,” Aeva said quickly. “If he hated you, he wouldn’t take you out for Man To Man time at all.”  
  
         “Ah, I see,” I said, not feeling particularly comforted by the sentiment. “How much more do you have to pack up?”  
  
         “Well, we can probably fit all my clothes into one box,” she murmured. “So that would only leave the other half of the room.”  
  
         “We’re not even taking most of the stuff!” I laughed. “How can you have six box-fulls already and still have another half to go?”  
  
         “It’s all supplies,” Frida said as though it were obvious. “The woman needs her crafts.”  
  
         “Yes!” Aeva agreed. “Now pack; pack!”  
  
         “Yes, mistress,” I said sycophantically, putting another pile of canvas into a box. It took a few hours, but we finally managed to pack everything she wanted to take. I was amazed to see nine boxes, all stuffed full, and her walls still plastered with things. There were a few holes here and there where she’d removed a painting, but she was leaving most of it. We’d taken care to pack the drawing of the goddess she’d done earlier that morning.  
  
        It took ages for Aeva to finally fall asleep that night. She was extremely excited to see the house, but she seemed positively alight at the idea of my upcoming alone time with her father. I, on the other hand, was less than optimistic. My nervous energy was not helping Aeva to drift off; she was so restless, she actually got out of bed to set out my clothes for the next day. I was to wear a white v-neck tee shirt with a blue and yellow flannel over it. She made it very clear that the flannel was to be worn unbuttoned and with the sleeves rolled to the elbow. This would be a casual look that mimicked what Jaime normally wore, which would make him more comfortable around me. Jeans and sneakers would be just fine for the bottom half.  
  
         “Wonderful, now get in here,” I groaned, throwing back the blankets.  
  
         “Fine, fine,” she laughed, crawling over me to get to her spot in the bed. “I’m just so excited for tomorrow.”  
  
         “Okay,” I sighed. “Now go to sleep.” She turned off the lamp and rested her head on my chest.  
  
         “Goodnight,” she whispered. “I love you.”  
  
         “I love you, too, Aeva.” This seemed to calm her, because she was asleep in minutes. The night passed quickly and in what felt like no time at all, there was a knock on the door.  
  
         “Yes?” I called quietly. The door creaked open and there was Jaime.  
  
         “Get dressed,” he instructed. “We’re gonna go soon.” He shut the door without another word and I eased myself out of the bed. After folding down the quilts for her, I put on the outfit Aeva had laid out and went down to the kitchen. Maria was there putting together lunches.  
  
         “Oh, Mondays,” she sighed. “I hate packing lunches. This is for you and Jaime, by the way.” She slid a small cooler towards me. “He already ate, but there’s snacks in there. And he’s been tired lately, so try not to make him do too much and if he looks like he needs it, there’s water for him. I didn’t know what to pack for you.”  
  
         “I don’t need anything,” I replied, taking the cooler.  
  
         “I figured,” she sighed. “You two are going to take the truck. Why don’t you load it up real quick while he’s upstairs? I already snuck a lawn chair in the back; try and make him sit down, won’t you?”  
  
         “Sure thing, Maria,” I laughed, turning to go.  
  
         “Have fun, mi hijo, and be careful!” I trumped up the stairs, replaying that in my head. I knew what hijo meant. She’d called me her son. I knew she couldn’t see me from the kitchen, and no one else was around, so I ran at full speed to load the truck. It took less than ten seconds, and no one heard a thing. When Jaime came out of his room, I had the last box in my hands.  
  
         “Oh, I’ll help you carry the stuff down,” he said, coming over.  
  
         “This is the last of it,” I replied, though I allowed him to take it. “Everything else is ready to go.” I followed him down and out to the car. He tossed the last box into the back and then hoisted himself into the driver’s seat. I got quietly into the passenger side and he backed out of the driveway. My nerves must have shown on my face.  
  
         “You look like you’re going to be sick,” he laughed.  
  
         “Possibly,” I mumbled. “Turn left here.”  
  
        We spent the drive in uncomfortable silence, broken only by my occasional direction. After what felt like the longest ride of my life, we pulled into the little driveway.  
  
         “So this is the new place, eh?” Jaime said, peering out the windshield. “It’s not bad. Yard’s kind of plain though.”  
  
         “I figured I’d leave that to Aeva,” I replied. “I want to give her a blank slate with the whole house. We just need to get the boxes in there, and she’ll tell me where she wants everything.”  
  
         “So you’re just gonna do what she says?” Jaime asked, shutting off the car.  
  
         “That’s the plan.”  
  
         “You got women all figured out,” he chuckled. I just laughed again and got out of the car. Right away, I lifted the lawn chair out of the truck and set it on the other side of the fence.  
  
         “What’s that for?” Jaime asked, stepping gingerly down from the truck.  
  
         “For you,” I said, jogging around to open the gate. “All you have to do is help me get the boxes over the fence and in the yard. Then you can just sit out here while I move it all inside.”  
  
         “Oh, bless you,” he laughed. “I was really hoping you weren’t gonna make me do much; not that I don’t want to help.”  
  
        “Just pass a box over,” I teased. He grinned and began hoisting the boxes over the fence. It took about five minutes to get everything laid out on the grass and Jaime came in through the gate.  
  
         “Here you go,” I said, opening the chair. He smiled gratefully and took a seat. He shifted squeakily on the vinyl while I started moving the boxes into the house. I half wished he wasn’t there, because I’d have gotten everything inside in two seconds, but I enjoyed his company. After about ten minutes of moving and casual conversation, I noticed Jaime still looked exhausted from handling the boxes. I went to the truck and pulled out a water bottle for him.  
  
         “Maria said if you needed it, I should give you a drink,” I said, handing it to him.  
  
         “You know, I think mi esposa might have meant something a little harder than this,” he grumbled, squinting at the bottle.  
  
         “No, I’m pretty sure she meant water, because that is what she gave me when she said it."  
  
         “Hmm, I think you need to work on reading body language,” Jaime teased. “I know my wife, and that meant give me a beer.”  
  
         “Just drink the water,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. Jaime chuckled and took a huge gulp from the bottle. Then he sighed and settled back into the chair.  
  
         “So,” he said off handedly. “When you gonna marry my baby?”  
  
         “What?” I laughed, lifting the last box. He was looking at me with his head cocked to the side; again, I felt like I was being measured.  
  
         “When you gonna marry Aeva?” He asked, taking another drink. I exhaled hugely and plopped the box down beside him.  
  
         “I don’t know,” I answered, sitting on top of it. “I don’t think it’ll be any time soon.”  
  
         “Why not?” He asked, leaning forward. “You love her, don’t you?”  
  
         “Yes,” I said with a smile. “Very much.”  
  
         “And you want to marry her, verdad?” he pressed.  
  
         “Yes, I do,” I replied, smiling again. “I would love to marry Aeva, to call her my wife. I want it very much.”  
  
         “So then why not just do it?” Jaime laughed. I smiled and shook my head.  
  
         “Aeva doesn’t want to. She never talks about being married. She mentions the baby once in a while, but never marriage. She’s not ready.”  
  
         “But why not?” Jaime groaned. “She loves you, hombre. More than I’ve ever seen anybody love anybody.”  
  
         “I know,” I laughed. “And that’s how I love her, but she already said she’d marry someone before she really knew who they were; before she was sure that they’d stay.”  
  
         “And she’s not sure about you?”  
  
         “Oh no, she’s sure about me. But, when you marry someone, you don’t just marry them, you know? You marry their whole family. Marrying her means marrying all of you guys and her baby, too. I think she’s waiting to see how I handle raising a kid before she jumps in. And besides, there’s still a lot she doesn’t know about me.”  
  
         “You’re keeping _more_ secrets?”  
  
         “No, no, I’ve let her in on the important parts of my life,” I replied with a wry smile. “But there’s more. I mean, she’s…met him, but she doesn’t actually _know_ my father. And he’s decidedly against the idea of us being together. I want him to like her.”  
  
         “And you think if he likes her, she’ll be ready to marry you?” He asked, trying to grasp the idea.  
  
         “Perhaps,” I said with a shrug. “I’m not going to rush her either way.” I carried the box into the house and when I came back, Jaime was standing with the chair folded and tucked under his arm. His head was cocked again and he seemed to be chewing the inside of his cheek.  
  
         “Aeva says you’re different,” he said as I walked to him. “Says you don’t eat, you won’t get older, and I don’t know if I want that for my daughter.”  
  
         “I understand,” I said solemnly.  
  
         “But, I think I do want _you_ for my daughter,” he continued, cocking his head the other way. “You’re good to her.”  
  
         “I try to be. She deserves better though.”  
  
         “I know,” he laughed. “And I think you’re right; you should wait until she’s ready. Tell me when you think that time’s come and I’ll give you my official blessing. Now come on, let’s head back.” And he hauled himself into the truck.  
  
        I followed suit and as we drove back to his house, I tried not to be irritated with the slow speed. I was having trouble processing what I’d just been told. Not once had Aeva and I discussed marriage, but her father was ready to give me his blessing at the drop of a hat. He was leaps and bounds ahead of her. But he’d said one thing that felt right. _I’ve never seen anybody love anybody that much_. That was exactly how it felt to me to be with her; it was encouraging to learn that others could see it too.  
  
        As we pulled into the gravel driveway, I caught sight of Aeva through a window. She had Lupe in her arms, balanced on her swollen belly, and they were dancing. Aeva was laughing and I could hear her all the way in the car; it was my favorite laugh, the loud one, and she wasn’t bothering to cover her mouth.  
  
         “What are you smiling at?” Jaime asked, giving me a quizzical grin. I grinned and pointed at the window.  
  
         “What?” He asked. “She’s just playing. But get used to it; her with a baby in her arms. That’ll be _her_ baby real soon.” I smiled at the thought.  
  



	17. Painted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nesting is a very real phenomenon.

###  _Aeva_

        When I woke up, Nathan was gone. So were the clothes I’d set out for him. I smiled at the thought of him sitting by my dad in the truck, wearing vaguely matching outfits.  
  
        I laid in bed a moment longer, suddenly feeling content to simply listen to the various noises my family made as the morning got started. It was right around seven o’clock and everyone was getting ready for work. Tío was yelling at Miguelito to hurry up and move his car because he was blocked in. Mercedes was running around, yelling frantically for her back pack. Holly kept trying to tell her she had it on, but Sadie was in no mood for technicalities.  
  
        Manuel and Miguelito were in the hallway just outside my door. They were talking about Nathan.  
  
         “So what do you think your dad’s telling him? What’s he think of him?” Miguel asked.  
  
         “I think he likes Nathan,” Manuel replied.  
  
         “Your mom keeps calling him hijo.”  
  
         “Seriously? She didn’t even call the red-head hijo, and he and Aevita were engaged.”  
  
         “Do you think Nathan would fit in around here though?”  
  
         “What has he been doing so far?” Manuel laughed.  
  
         “No, I mean like, as a real family member; as your _brother_.”  
  
         “Woah, he would be my brother,” he gasped. “He would be my little brother.”  
  
         “Are you older than him?”  
  
         “Yeah, he’s twenty five. I’m twenty seven.”  
  
         “But they said he doesn’t change, dude. He could be a lot older. How old do you think he is?”  
  
         “I have no idea.”  
  
         “It kind of freaks me out.”  
  
         “Me too, but Aeva says he’s fine. She’s a smart girl; I’m just going to trust her on it.”  
  
         “Alright, but how will you treat him if you find out he’s a billion years older than you?”  
  
         “He said he’s twenty five. He elected to be my younger brother. It’s his fault.”  
  
         “Would you tontos clear off?” Frida groaned, barging in on their conversation. “I have a kid to get to preschool.”  
  
         “Frida, you like Nathan,” Miguelito said brightly. “What do you think of him becoming your brother?”  
  
         “I don’t think anything about it; I’ll think about it once they’re engaged. He’s just her boyfriend, so seriously! Get out of the way!”  
  
        I smiled and hauled myself out of bed as they thundered down the stairs. I took my sweet time showering and dressing. Clothes were becoming an increasingly difficult task as my belly grew. I resorted to digging around in Nathan’s stuff to find a shirt worth stealing. I pulled out a powder blue oxford and slipped it on over my tank top, belting it right above my stomach. Pants were a problem not so easily solved. I yanked on a pair of sweatpants and went down stairs.  
  
         “Mamá!” I called.  
  
         “In the kitchen, Estrella!”  
  
         “Mamá,” I repeated, coming into the room. “Do you still have Frida’s maternity band?”  
  
         “The one for her jeans?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Yeah, she stuck it in the junk drawer.”  
  
         “Thank you,” I laughed, opening the drawer in question and riffling through it. The maternity band was back in its battered pink box.  
  
         “I’m sort of glad you asked for that,” Abuela laughed from the table. “I was worried you actually thought sweatpants looked good with that top. By the way, from the waist up, you look very nice today.”  
  
         “Gracias, Abuelita. Where’re Abuelo and Doña Luisa?”  
  
         “Luisa’s sleeping in the living room. Juan’s at work.”  
  
         “Abuelo’s started working again?”  
  
         “Yes, he’s a substitute teacher at Mercedes’ school,” Mamá replied. “He started working just a little after you left. Can you do me a favor?”  
  
         “Sure, what do you need?”  
  
         “Lupe’s still asleep upstairs. Can you go wake her up?”  
  
         “You got it.”  
  
        I turned and went back to my room and found a pair of jeans and pulled them on. I slid the maternity band around the waist so I didn’t have to button them and they fit just like normal. With my pants finally on, I went into to Frida’s room where Lupe was waiting. She was standing up in her playpen, smiling at me.  
  
         “Tía.”  
  
         “Good morning, my little Lupe,” I laughed, hurrying over to her. I swept her up, throwing her in the air and catching her again. She laughed and hugged me around my neck, resting her head on my shoulder. She was exactly the right size to sit on top of my belly.  
  
         “Are you hungry, Lupita?”  
  
         “Yes,” she sighed. “Mama?”  
  
         “Your mama’s taking Chuy to school,” I replied, carrying her down stairs. “Then she’s going to work. You’re going to spend the morning with me, and your abuela, and your bisabuela, and Doña Luisa.”  
  
         “No Lisa.”  
  
         “Oh, don’t be like that,” I laughed. “Doña Luisa is nice.”  
  
        Lupe let out a huge yawn as I set her down at the table. Mamá slid a small plate of scrambled eggs toward me and I helped my niece eat. When she was done, Abuela took her upstairs to dress and I helped myself to a bowl of cereal.  
  
         “So, Estrella,” Mamá said, leaning against the counter. “How do you think it’s going with Jaime and Nathan?”  
  
         “I think Papá likes him.”  
  
         “Me too,” Mamá laughed. “He’s already used to referring to you two as a unit. It’s not just Aeva anymore, it’s Aeva-and-Nathan.”  
  
         “I heard that you call him _hijo_ now.”  
  
         “It’s slipped out once or twice,” she blushed. “If you want me to stop, I will.”  
  
         “No, call him hijo,” I laughed. “Maybe Papá will start too.”  
  
         “That’s a bit of a jump,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Let’s just be happy he likes him and count our blessings.”  
  
         “Fair enough.”  
  
         “TÍA!”  
  
         “Ay, Lupe,” I laughed as she crashed into my knees. “What a lovely dress.” She was wearing a Cinderella costume that I recognized as once belonging to Mercedes. There were stains on the chest and a rip in the sleeve, but Lupe looked extremely proud to have it on.  
  
         “Where did you find that?” Mamá laughed.  
  
         “It was under Frida’s dresser,” Abuela replied, smiling at Lupe. “She found it and suddenly, nothing else was good enough anymore.”  
  
         “I completely understand,” I sighed, sweeping my niece up. She giggled and settled herself against me, straddling my belly.  
  
         “I want dance.”  
  
         “You want to dance? Okay. We’ll dance!”  
  
        I twirled slowly around the house, humming something vaguely like a waltz, and she waved imperiously at all the furniture, throwing kisses at any family members we passed. Once we’d done two laps and returned to the living room it was time for the big finale; I put a hand behind her head and dipped her low, brushing her hair on the carpet. She giggled and I pulled her back up.  
  
         “New game,” she declared.  
  
         “Which one?”  
  
         “Fast dance!”  
  
        I busted out laughing and she laughed along, obviously unsure of the joke.  
  
         “What did I miss?” His voice was right at my ear and it sent a shiver down my back. He kissed my neck and I could feel his smile against my skin.  
  
         “Hi ‘Than.”  
  
         “Hi Lupe,” he cooed. “Want to come here?” He offered her his hands and she immediately stuck out her arms. He grabbed hold of her and lifted her up and over my head. When I turned around, he had her safely resting in the crook of one arm and he draped the other around my shoulders.  
  
         “So how did it go with my dad?” I asked.  
  
         “I was given a preliminary blessing to marry you.”  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “He kind of said it was alright,” Nathan laughed. “But I have to go back and actually ask him before I propose.”  
  
         “Oh,” I said, mildly stunned. “I mean…will that be soon because…we hadn’t talked about…”  
  
         “That was my reaction as well,” he said, kissing my head reassuringly. “I told him he’d have a while to wait.”  
  
        I wasn’t sure how to interpret that news. Did that mean that Nathan was just evading my pushy father’s request, or that he didn’t want to marry me yet? Did I want to marry Nathan? The question was uncomfortable to ponder, so I chose to ignore it. “Well,” I said, “the important thing is that he seems to like you.”  
  
         “Yes, that definitely eclipses everything else.”  
  
         “How did moving go?”  
  
         “Wonderful. When do you want to go and see your house?”  
  
         “I thought we still had to buy furniture.”  
  
         “Well, yes, but you’ll need to see the house to know what to pick,” he laughed.  
  
         “I’m picking?”  
  
         “You are in charge of everything,” he replied. “I am simply providing the man power.”  
  
         “Oh, nice.”  
  
        He smiled and we walked into the kitchen together. Papá was waiting there with Mamá and Abuela. Lupe got bored and Nathan set her down as we announced our plan to go back to the house together and start unpacking.  
  
         “Here’s the keys to the truck,” Papá said, tossing them to Nathan. “Just bring her back in one piece.”  
  
         “Aeva?”  
  
         “No, the car.”  
  
         “Gracias, Papá,” I grumbled, tugging Nathan from the room. We went out to the truck and he drove expertly through the streets; I got more excited with every passing minute. Finally, we pulled into the driveway of a little white house.  
  
         “Oh my goodness,” I said, getting out of the car.  
  
         “Do you like it?”  
  
         “I love it,” I laughed. “I mean, sure, it needs a little work, but this is just about as close to perfect as it gets.”  
  
         “So you’d like to live here with me?”  
  
         “For the rest of my life,” I grinned, throwing my arms around his neck. He kissed me and then turned me around so his chest was against my back and we were both facing the house.  
  
         “What do you want it to look like?” He asked. I stared at it and tilted my head, first one way and then the other. The house was traditional; there wasn’t much I could do about that. Anything I did to make it ‘out there’ would look bad with the architecture. That didn’t mean, however, that I couldn’t make it look good. One thing I loved and knew we would keep was the bright red door. The screen door would be coming off, though. It covered up the good part.  
  
         “Screen door off,” I muttered. “Replace it with a glass one.”  
  
         “Check.”  
  
        The siding had clearly once been radiantly white, but now it was rather dingy; almost gray. The trim, however, was still nice, though the paint was chipping in a few places. Perhaps a new color would spruce it up. I wanted the white trim and the red door, so the obvious choice was blue.  
  
         “Blue siding; not powdery, but not too dark.”  
  
         “Medium blue. Got it.”  
  
        If the house were blue, the gray shingles on the roof would be overpowered. They looked like they needed to be replaced anyways. Black would look the best.  
  
         “Black shingles.”  
  
         “Done.”  
  
         “And we’ll need to repaint the fence and the trim.”  
  
         “Naturally.”  
  
         “And I want some sort of path to the front door.”  
  
         “Concrete?”  
  
         “No, paver, I think. Like, those mismatched stones you fit together like a puzzle.”  
  
         “Colors?”  
  
         “Maybe a few brown ones. Mostly varied tones of gray.”  
  
         “Gray pavers. Okay.”  
  
         “We need plants too,” I sighed. “This yard is so plain.”  
  
         “What were you thinking?”  
  
         “I want a shade tree in the front. Red tulips along the outside of the fence. Rhododendron bushes along the house.”  
  
         “Rhododendron?”  
  
         “I like them,” I laughed. “Don’t question it.”  
  
         “Alright. Shade tree, red tulips, Rhododendron bushes. Anything else?”  
  
         “We’ll need something for the back yard, but let me think on it. I want to go inside first.”  
  
        Nathan kissed the back of my head and hugged me gently before leading me to the front door. He opened it with a huge grin and then stood aside to let me pass. The front room was little and there were boxes stacked in the corner, but I was still ecstatic. Images of different set ups flashed through my head. Black and white minimalist. Brown and blue comfort. Orange and green unconventional. Wallpaper antique.  
  
         “So what do you want to put in here?”  
  
         “Well, I want the floors cleaned and green on the walls. Kind of a mix of sage and olive.”  
  
         “And furniture?”  
  
         “Rug in the middle. Chairs on either side of the window; low book case under the sill between them. TV over there, couch against the opposite wall, by the closet, with a coffee table.”  
  
         “Anything else?”  
  
         “I want a toy chest in the corner,” I murmured, running a hand over my belly.  
  
         “Okay, now come on; next room.”  
  
        Nathan took my hand and led me down a tiny hallway and into the kitchen. The floor was magnificent, though filthy.  
  
         “We have to scrub this tile!” I laughed. “But just look at those colors! Orange and green and red and black. That’s even the green I wanted for the front room! And the grout is sort of tan. We’ll paint the kitchen walls tan like that. We’ll need a dining room table and chairs in wood, the same color as the floors in the front room. We should re-stain the cabinets to match that as well.”  
  
         “Do you like the counter tops?”  
  
         “I think they’re great,” I laughed, running my hand over the smooth, green surface. Then I saw the dingy little fridge. “We need new appliances.”  
  
         “Of course. Gas, electric, or wood burning for your stove?”  
  
         “Electric,” I laughed.  
  
         “Got it. Now, before we go upstairs, tell me what you want for the bathroom.” He opened a little door I hadn’t noticed and I walked in. The Spanish tile continued in here, but I wanted to paint it the same green as the front room. The toilet and sink were fine, though in need of a good cleaning just like the rest of the house.  
  
         “We’ll just paint it green…and hang a new mirror.”  
  
         “Paint, mirror. Okay. Now, let’s go see our room!” He bolted to the other end of the room and seemed to disappear into the wall. I chased after him, finding the hidden staircase, and went up. The carpet was off-white and looked new so nothing had to be done there. I decided that the wall along the back of the dining room would look good in faux brick to match the red accents in the tile; it would run into the little staircase alcove. The rest of the walls on the stairs and the landing would be a dark brown.  
  
         “This one is ours,” Nathan announced, opening a door to the left. I walked in and saw that we had two great big windows. We would put a big bed right between them with matching night stands on either side and a fainting sofa at the end. There was a stretch of wall between the doors for the closet and the bathroom, which we would fill with a long, low dresser. On the other end of the room, we would put comfy chairs and a small table, possibly a little book case. The walls would all be light tan, except for the one with the windows, which would be a rich golden yellow. The bathroom, I decided, would get gray walls and be done in classic black and white.  
  
         “Okay, now this is the other bathroom,” Nathan explained, taking me to the next room. “What do you want for this?”  
  
         “White trim,” I said with a smile. “Aqua walls. It needs a fun shower curtain too. This should be cute, for the baby.”  
  
         “Okay, we can do that. And now you need to plan the last room; the nursery.”  
  
        When I walked in, it was already blue with yellow ribbons. Although they were cute, they were also slightly nauseating. I could see the nursery I wanted perfectly in my head. The walls would be pale blue at the bottom and fade up into purple. I’d paint little silver stars in the purple and a crescent moon with a face on the far wall. The changing table would go under that. The crib could go between the front two windows, with a mobile of silver stars. I would also hang a few stars from the ceiling. I’d spread a plush, purple rug on the floor and put a rocking chair and a little white bureau against one wall and have big, soft toys in the corner. I figured it would make a good room for a boy, but also be feminine enough to keep Nathan guessing.  
  
         “So that’s it,” I sighed, finishing my explanation. “That’s the whole house.”  
  
         “It sounds great,” he laughed. “Let’s go shopping.”  
  
         “Like, right now?”  
  
         “Yes, right now. We can’t wait too much longer or we’ll never get it all done.”  
  
         “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I laughed. “We’re going to buy _everything_ I just went over right now?”  
  
         “Not if you don’t get in the truck.”  
  
         “Nathan, seriously. You just bought a house; you have to be running low on money now.”  
  
         “Aeva, I know…I know it’s confusing,” he sighed. “Viktor and I have never been settlers, like other covens. He and I have always changed where we live, because of how he hunts. We have houses all over the place; we do this often.”  
  
        I grimaced at the thought. I suppose Nathan’s father couldn’t stay in one place without people tracing a string of murders back to him.  
  
         “And after I left him,” he continued, lacing his fingers through mine, “I never lived on my own. I stayed in the homes of the elderly people I took care of. So he and I don’t really…own things. I mean, certainly, we’ll buy things—like the apartment I had—to help us play a part, but none of it matters. We don’t keep it. Viktor’s tastes are much more…extravagant than mine, and even _he_ doesn’t care about his possessions.”  
  
         “What’s the point here?”  
  
         “The point is,” he said, smiling at my impatience. “He’s been alive for over nine centuries, and I’m coming up on three. We’ve accumulated wealth. _A lot_ of wealth, because we genuinely don’t care about anything we buy. If it increases in value, we sell it. Buying this house hasn’t even put a dent in what I have. You can have _anything_ you want; I’m serious.”  
  
        I decided not to argue the point and simply went back down stairs and got into the passenger seat. His experience with money was vastly different than mine. I had just found out that my grandfather had gone back to work, and I could only guess the reason was the strain of all those people living in that house. Nathan had more money than me or my family could have ever dreamed of and he just…didn’t care. But it wasn’t the sort of flippant disregard for money that some celebrities displayed; he didn’t buy a yacht and a matching private jet just because he was bored and money was no object to him. He genuinely _didn’t_ care where or how his money was spent; like he said, he didn’t need to buy anything to live. His money could change my family’s life but I couldn’t just…ask for that. I knew for certain that he would tell me yes if I did, but it didn’t _feel_ like I could ask that of him. That felt too much like using him.  
  
        I buried the thought, vowing to return to it later, and we began shopping for our home. Our first stop was the hardware store where we bought shingles, siding, and gallon after gallon of paint. We also bought various tools of the trade to complete the jobs we had to do. I figured we’d go back to the house and get to work after that, but instead Nathan loaded it into the truck bed and we went to a furniture store. They had absolutely everything we needed from the chairs and couches to our dining room table to a bed and a crib. They even carried rugs, bed spreads, and various home décor. I was so used to bargain hunting, it was almost reflexive, but Nathan watched my face as I looked things over. He knew when I’d seen something I liked and refused to let me budge from it. It was the sort of peer pressure I didn’t mind; the kind that resulted in me having a truly beautiful leather couch and a teak dining set. Nathan placed a massive order for everything I chosen and even paid a huge amount extra to have it all delivered that afternoon. When we finally got back to the house, my head was still reeling from the price tag on the day.  
  
         “We spent over $34,000,” I gasped. “Nathan, are you seriously good for that?”  
  
         “It’s pocket change,” he shrugged. “And I’m not saying that to be conceited, it’s just that immortality adds up.”  
  
         “Apparently.”  
  
         “It’s nice to have a reason to spend some of it, but it’s easier if you just try not to think about it. What room did you want to do first?”  
  
         “I wanted to focus on the nursery,” I replied, setting an armful of things down in the living room.  
  
         “Okay, for that, you’ll need a tarp, trays, rollers, and brushes,” he listed, stacking the items back in my hands. “Take all that up stairs and I’ll be right behind you with the paint.”  
  
         “Yes sir,” I laughed before heading for the stairs. I’d just set everything down when he reappeared, bearing the multiple colors I needed and the wood pieces and carving tools to make the stars. He helped me set up the tarp and prime the walls, and then went to the door.  
  
         “I’m going to let you handle this by yourself,” he informed me. “I’ll start on the down stairs.”  
  
         “Good plan,” I said, giving him a thumbs up. He returned it with a smile and then trumped down the stairs. I crunched my way across the plastic tarp to all of my various paint colors, deciding to start with the light blue. It took me a long time to get an even coating on the walls. When I was finally done, I mixed some of the purple with the blue and started adding this new color on about half way up the walls. As I painted, I started imagining scenes of Nathan and I and the baby. This room had to be perfect to live up to what I was fantasizing.  
  
        Perfection was not coming easily, though. It was much more difficult than I’d anticipated to blend the different shades, but I figured out that if I used my hands I could mix it together much more smoothly than if I used a brush or a roller. After quite the battle, I was ready to add the darker purple and now that I knew what I was doing, it went much faster. Where the indigo color had taken over two hours, the purple was up in half the time. I was sweating at this point and the little boy inside me decided I needed a bathroom break by delivering a whomping kick to my bladder. I just barely made it to the toilet in time. As I washed my hands, I noticed that the walls in there were already aqua colored and the trim was up. The paint still smelled fresh though, so I figured Nathan had just changed his mind and done the top story before the bottom. Our bedroom door was closed, so he was probably in there painting.  
  
        Once I was back in the nursery, getting up on the ladder to paint stars seemed a very daunting task. I opted instead to set up a little station on the floor and began whittling the little wood stars. They didn’t have hard edges or look geometric. They were cute and almost cartoonish with plump little centers and rounded off tips. With just rough carving, I was able to crank out around fifteen in half an hour. I figured that would be good, as I didn’t really want to coat the ceiling with them, but I still had to make a few more to put on the mobile.  
  
        Once they were all carved out, I started sanding them smooth. I liked the way the wood looked when it was sanded, so I only painted half of the stars silver. There were little holes I’d punched in the tips to thread fishing line through, but fishing line wouldn’t suffice for the mobile. What if the baby broke one off and tried to eat it? I had clear wrapped wire in one of my boxes of supplies that would be perfect. I struggled to my feet before hurrying into our bedroom to rummage through the boxes in there.  
  
        Apparently, the only things Nathan had brought up here were our clothes. I stood back up and sighed and noticed the opposite wall was much more golden than it had been this morning. The entire room was painted to my specifications, even the closet. The bathroom was done as well. Now, deeply curious about what Nathan had been up to, I walked slowly back onto the landing. The walls here were dark brown. I went down to the kitchen and was met with a faux brick wall and tan everywhere else and I nearly fell as my sock slipped on the floor. I looked down and saw that the tile had been scoured and scrubbed to a shine. It was beautiful. The counter tops were gleaming as well and the old appliances had been pulled out. I peeked into the bathroom and saw that it was painted and cleaned, though the mirror was missing.  
  
        I passed through the short hallway and into the living room which was, as I’d guessed it would be, already painted. The walls were the perfect shade of green and the dark wood floors were swept and polished. I was stunned.  
  
         “Nathan?” I called out.  
  
         “What do you need?” He replied, instantly appearing beside me. I only barely managed not to scream.  
  
         “I was just wondering where you’d gone. The house looks awesome, by the way.”  
  
         “I’m just waiting on the furniture to get here. It shouldn’t be too much longer; I called to ask.”  
  
         “Please do not hassle the furniture store,” I laughed. “And if you’re done painting, what are you doing now?”  
  
         “You gave me a long to do list,” he grinned. “I’m doing it. Can I see the nursery?”  
  
         “I’m not done yet,” I murmured, a little embarrassed at the comparison between what I’d accomplished and what he’d done. Nathan just smiled at me.  
  
         “It’s going to look amazing, I can feel it,” he laughed. “It’s complicated, isn’t it?”  
  
         “Sort of.”  
  
         “Then I certainly hope it takes you all day,” he said, smiling again. “The more time you spend on it, the better it will be.”  
  
         “So how long did it take you to do all of this?” I asked, changing the subject.  
  
         “Not long at all. Did you know it’s past noon? It slipped my mind, but you need to eat something.”  
  
         “Now that you mention it, I’m starving,” I laughed, rubbing my gurgling belly.  
  
         “Well, I don’t have a meal, exactly,” he mumbled. “The new fridge isn’t here, so I can’t buy you food. But there’s a cooler in the car that your mom gave me this morning. She’d put snacks in there for your dad to eat but he didn’t need them.”  
  
         “Mamá packed snacks?” I laughed. “Nathan, it’s a meal. Trust me.” He smiled and retrieved the cooler. Just as I’d suspected, the snacks consisted of two tamales, a biscuit, a sandwich, and some potato chips.  
  
         “That does look much more like a meal than a snack,” Nathan laughed as I pulled out a tamale. I shrugged and took a bite. It was excellent, as per usual. I sat on the living room floor eating my lunch while Nathan talked. After a while, I interrupted him with a question.  
  
         “Can you taste this?” I asked, offering the sandwich.  
  
         “Um, what?”  
  
         “Can you taste this? I’m not asking you to eat it; I just want to know, if you _did_ eat it, could you taste it?”  
  
         “Oh,” he laughed. “Yes, I can taste food. It’s uncomfortable when it comes back up, though, so I don’t— _we_ don’t eat.”  
  
         “Why do you puke it up?”  
  
         “My body can’t do anything with it,” he said with a shrug. “But I can still taste.”  
  
         “But what if you tasted the most delicious food on the planet,” I mused. “Would you want to eat it then?”  
  
         “No, not even then. Think of when you’re truly, truly, uncomfortably full and someone gives you something to eat. It will still taste good, but you don’t want anything to do with it. Or when you’re ill and someone offers you something. It’s just unappetizing.”  
  
         “Oh, okay. I see what you’re saying. You’re missing out though; Mamá is a mean cook.” I smiled at him and took another bite. After about half an hour, I was full and retreated back upstairs to the nursery. As I was half way up the steps, I heard a truck outside.  
  
         “Is that the furniture?”  
  
         “Yes,” Nathan replied from the front room.  
  
         “Do you want any help with it?”  
  
         “No, I’ve got it.”  
  
         “Alright, suit yourself.” I went back to the nursery, now equipped with the wire I’d wanted. It had been in a box in the living room. I was still just not in the mood to get on the ladder, so I sat back down at my little star station on the floor. All the stars I’d painted were dry now so I threaded the fishing line through. I kept six aside—three silver, three bare—for the mobile. I opened my little wire kit, which was actually just a shoe box full of things you need pliers for, and tugged out the clear stuff. As it came out, a box of glass beads tumbled to the floor. There were purple and blue ones in there that would be absolutely perfect on a mobile.  
  
        I slid the wire through the holes in the stars and then dropped a few beads down so they rested on the stars’ points. Then I worked on twisting the excess wire into a halo sort of thing, so each dangling star was wound together. The effect was that of a mini chandelier which, when hung, would spin with the slightest breeze. I was rather proud of the little mobile and set it carefully aside as I finally forced myself up and onto the ladder. Hanging the little wood stars was a piece of cake and once they were all up, I was newly inspired to keep painting.  
  
        I went around all the edges of the room adding silver stars of various sizes as I pleased. The finished product was kind of mesmerizing. I then dragged the ladder over to the only star-free spot on the wall and began sketching out my moon. It faced away from the corner and had a big, sweet smile. His eyes were droopy and he had little rectangular spectacles. It reminded me of Don Ramón, Doña Luisa’s husband. He’d died when I was very young, but I still remembered his face and crawling into his chair with him to take a nap. He was where I’d gotten part of my name. Aeva Maria Luisa Ramón Sanchez. I was named after my mother and my great grandparents.  
  
        I worked in silence, thinking about my family as I painted the moon. When I’d finally added the last brush strokes, he looked wonderful. The light outside had dimmed considerably. I sighed and climbed down from the ladder to start cleaning up. As I did, there was a little knock on the door.  
  
         “Aeva?” Nathan asked. “Are you finished painting?”  
  
         “I am,” I called back.  
  
         “Can you come into the bedroom for a minute?”  
  
         “Sure,” I replied, turning around. When I opened the door, Nathan wasn’t there, but our bedroom door was cracked, so I just went in alone. The room was finished; not just painted, but actually finished. We had a massive canopy bed with fluffy, white bedding. Each night stand had matching lamps and the fainting sofa was just how I’d imagined it. The chairs to the left matched the sofa and the book case between them was already half filled. The dresser had been set up and, as I opened a drawer, I realized my clothes had been put away. In the closet, more of Nathan and I’s clothes had been hung, along with all our shoes, which were neatly arranged on a rack.  
  
        Flowing, sheer white curtains were draped over the windows and one of my largest landscape paintings had been framed and hung above the dresser. It was of a rocky beach at sunrise, so although the shore was dark and craggy, the water and sky were alight with yellows, pinks and blues. On top of the book case, each in its own little frame, sat a series of watercolor song birds I’d done. On the wall directly over the bed, in place of a headboard, was a bas-relief sculpture I’d done in a large piece of wood and painted white. It was a simple lake scene, with reeds and grasses that looked like wind was blowing through them.  
  
        Still in awe, I went into the bathroom, which was like a black and white photo. The walls were steel gray and the towel racks were laden with large white towels and smaller black and gray hand-towels and wash cloths. There was a black soap dish on the white marble counter top with a white soap bar. And, hung on the walls in black frames, were various figure drawings and simple sketches I’d done. It was extraordinary. I wandered back out of the room, still a little dazed, and saw the nursery door was ajar and Nathan was standing there, grinning at me.  
  
         “Our room looks great,” I laughed, going to him. I stopped short, though, as I realized the change in the nursery. The ladder, the tarp, the trays, the rollers, and the brushes were all gone, replaced by a changing table, a rocking chair, a white bureau, toys, and a crib. I was even more stunned to see the little mobile I’d made already hung up. The big purple rug was soft under my feet as I walked around, examining everything.  
  
        Nothing was hung on the walls as the paint job was decoration enough. The changing table was fully stocked with diapers, wipes, and powder and a little trash was positioned next to it. The bureau was still empty, but the crib was fully bedded. There was a spongy mattress covered in a soft sheet. Little padded bumpers were positioned all around the edges to keep the baby from bumping its head. One soft brown bear was looking up at me and draped over the side were two blankets: one blue, one pink.   
        I glanced at Nathan, who was smiling at me from the rocking chair, looking incredibly pleased with himself. It was not without reason, and I felt he deserved some kind of reward. I looked back at the blankets.  
  
         “Want to know a secret?” I whispered.  
  
         “Sure.”  
  
        I smiled and picked up the little teddy bear, carefully wrapping it in the blue blanket before replacing it.  
  
         “It’s a boy?” He asked, standing up and wrapping his arms around me.  
  
         “Yup,” I replied. “We’re gonna have a little guy running around here soon. Our room is seriously amazing, by the way.”  
  
         “So is this one,” he laughed, looking at the walls. “This is incredible.”  
  
         “How much of the house have you gotten done?”  
  
         “All of it.”  
  
         “No way,” I laughed, pushing away from him. He shrugged back and I hurried down stairs. He hadn’t lied. Everything was just the way I’d asked; the tables, the chairs, the couch, the book case. He’d taken a little liberty with the coffee table, though, and covered the top with the same Spanish tile as the kitchen.  
  
         “Where did you get that?” I asked.  
  
         “I found it in the cabinet under the sink,” he replied. “I thought it looked nice.”  
  
         “It’s wonderful,” I laughed. “You actually have a really good eye for decoration.” He seemed almost embarrassed by the praise, but it was true. He’d hung up and displayed a number of my paintings and sculptures and each one was perfect where he’d put it. The spring goddess was in a place of honor in the living room.  
  
         “Um, do you want to see the outside?” He asked quietly. I sprinted from the room without further prompting and was astounded by what I saw. The house was blue, the shingles were black, the trim was stark white, and the door stood out proudly, no longer covered by a screen. Pavers like puzzle pieces formed a path from the door, through the open gate, and down to the side walk. Rhododendron bushes and tulips had been planted and a sizeable Japanese maple had appeared in the yard. Its reddish purple leaves complemented the house beautifully.  
  
         “Oh my god, Nathan!” I laughed. “This is beautiful!”  
  
         “Go in the back,” he instructed. I walked around the house to the back yard and found that a small garden of tulips had been planted by a newly constructed patio. Leading off the patio was another paver stone path which wound its way to a little shed at the back corner of the yard. It matched the house perfectly.  
  
         “You built a tool shed?” I asked.  
  
         “No, go look.”  
  
        I walked down the little path slowly and opened the shed door. Inside was dark, except for one window that looked out into the yard. There was just enough light for me to find a switch. I flipped it on and the room was instantly illuminated, revealing a drawing table and chair, shelves of supplies, bulletin boards full of sketches, a drying rack, and four folded up easels—one being my ratty, paint covered original.  
  
        Nathan had built me a studio.  
  
        I ran back and kissed every part of him I could reach.  
  



	18. Collided

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In-laws, meet in-laws.

###  _Nathan_

         “Papá,” she said into the phone, grinning hugely at me. “We’re going to spend the night here.”  
  
         “Are you sleeping on the floor?” I could hear his reply as clearly as if I’d been the one speaking to him.  
  
         “No, we’re all moved in,” she laughed.  
  
         “You already bought all your furniture?”  
  
         “Nathan is remarkably efficient.” She got up out of her chair and walked to me. I put my hands on her waist and rested my lips against her belly.  
  
         “So…so, you’re not coming home tonight?” Jaime asked.  
  
         “I am home.”  
  
        I grinned up at her.  
  
         “Well, Aevita, good night, I suppose. Te amo, querida.”  
  
         “Good night, Papá. Te amo.” They hung up and Aeva ran her fingers through my hair. She smelled like paint and sawdust on top of the deliciously sweet scent of her blood. Her palms were warm and her breathing was slow, and with my hands positioned the way they were, I could feel the baby inside her moving. I suppose I could think of it as her son now, though. The little person forming inside of her was apparently male. I hoped he looked like his mother; I’d never met anyone so worth resembling.  
  
        His heartbeat was remarkably loud and he was growing very quickly. He also seemed very active just then. I wasn’t sure what was pushing on my hands—perhaps hands or feet—but they were going pretty fast.  
  
         “He’s kind of squirmy, isn’t he?” I laughed.  
  
         “Yeah, and it’s only ever when it gets late that he starts moving,” Aeva agreed. “I’m pretty sure he’s nocturnal.”  
  
         “Not a bad quality to have when you’re living with a vampire.”  
  
         “It couldn’t hurt.”  
  
         “Are you ready for bed?”  
  
         “Yes,” she laughed. “I want to shower first though.”  
  
         “In your new bathroom?”  
  
         “Yes!” She gasped, clapping her hands. “Oh, I get to use my new bathroom! Come on, Nathan! New bathroom time!” I laughed and followed her up stairs. She darted into the bathroom and I leaned against the doorway, watching her. She reached into the stall and started the water, letting it run over her hands for a moment before shutting the door and letting it heat up. I flicked on the exhaust fan as she unwound the bun on the back of her head.  
  
         “You’re hair is getting long,” I commented, watching the dark waves of it tumble down past her shoulders. She checked the mirror and then pulled a lock straight.  
  
         “I kind of like it just a little long, you know?” She asked, turning her head. “But I need to get rid of these ends; they’re making it look all ratty.”  
  
         “Are you sure it’s the ends,” I teased, “and not the paint dried in it?”  
  
         “Shut up,” she laughed, pulling her shirt over her head.  
  
         “Oh,” I gasped, looking down instantly. I wasn’t sure of the rules for this.  
  
         “Calm down, Saint Nataniel,” she sighed. “I have a tank top on.” I opened my eyes and saw the blue shirt was on the floor and her tank top was flipped up so she could see her belly. She was fidgeting with some sort of elastic band.  
  
         “What’s that?”  
  
         “A maternity band,” she replied, finally getting a hold of it and working it down her legs. “It makes my pants fit.”  
  
         “Oh. Wait, that’s _my_ shirt. My shirt, that you just ruined with paint.” I laughed, pointing at the button down on the floor. She smiled and shrugged.  
  
         “I thought you didn’t care about your possessions.”  
  
         “Would you like me to get you some of those for your own?”  
  
         “No, my plan is to slowly ruin all of your shirts in the hope that you’ll stop wearing them.” She grinned mischievously and pushed me out of the door way.  
  
         “I wouldn’t want to spoil your innocence,” she said, laughing a little. I leaned down and kissed her before she shut the door. She was endlessly entertaining to me.  
  
        I changed into pajama bottoms—not bothering with a shirt, as was apparently her preference—and stood by the window, looking out into the woods in the back. I had scoured these woods many times before; there was nothing bigger than a raccoon living in them, so I would still have to go farther away to hunt. I preferred that, really. It seemed wrong to kill animals in Aeva’s backyard.  
  
        When I heard the bathroom door open I looked over my shoulder to see Aeva already stooped over the dresser. She dressed herself expertly, not letting me see anything under her towel. When she was through, she hung the towel back in the bathroom and came over to me. She smelled like soap and toothpaste.  
  
         “Feel better?” I asked.  
  
         “Immeasurably.”  
  
         “So do you like our house?”  
  
         “Yes,” she laughed. “But can you open the windows? It still smells like paint in here.” I grinned and slid the panes of glass up while she crawled into bed. I joined her a moment later and we curled together. I stared down at her, my arms around her middle, as she drifted off. Her warmth was scalding my skin in the most exquisite way and I settled my head behind hers, kissing her shoulders before she fell asleep. When morning came, I found myself in an inner battle. Do I get up before her and make breakfast, or do I stay and watch her wake up?  
  
        I still hadn’t decided when her breathing started to change. She opened her eyes, not seeming to know where she was. She was still only half awake. She just stared straight forward at her own painting, blinking slowly, until she tried to move. It was then that she registered my arms around her and the fog cleared. She looked back at me with a tired smile.  
  
         “Hi,” she croaked.  
  
         “Hello,” I laughed. “How did you sleep?”  
  
         “Like a dead person,” she rasped in her sleep voice. “It was fantastic. This bed almost swallowed me. It’s so soft.”  
  
         “I’m glad you like it. Are you hungry for anything?”  
  
         “Fruit loops,” she laughed. “And a hot dog.”  
  
         “Fruit loops and a…hot dog?”  
  
         “Tell it to him!” She yawned, patting her belly. “He’s the one in control, not me.”  
  
        I smiled and she got out of bed. She began her morning routine and I went downstairs to make her breakfast. I set it on the little bar as she came down the stairs.  
  
         “Aw, you even put mustard on it,” she cooed, climbing onto a stool and picking up the hot dog.  
  
         “I do what I can.”  
  
         “Apparently.”  
  
        I just laughed and cleaned up the kitchen while she ate.  
  
         “So,” she said, fishing around in her cereal bowl. “When did you stock the kitchen?”  
  
         “While you were working on the nursery,” I replied. “I really don’t think you understand how fast I can go.”  
  
         “Not in the least,” she smiled. I couldn’t help the emotion that came over me then. There was so much about me that Aeva didn’t understand; so much that she never could. She was so willing to accept all of it, but she had no idea what the full scope of that meant. It was more than just our difference in species. We were over two hundred and fifty years apart in age. It was then that I considered just how young Aeva was.  
  
         “You’re nineteen,” I said.  
  
         “I am,” she agreed. “Did you just remember?”  
  
         “Yes,” I replied honestly. “Aeva, you don’t have to do this.”  
  
         “What are you talking about now?”  
  
         “I just…You’re going to have to give up so much for me,” I said, hating myself for the truth of that statement. “You’re so young. You’re going to spend so much time lying for me. You don’t have to do this.”  
  
         “Look, I’m nineteen with a baby on the way,” she said evenly. “I’m going to need to give some things up regardless of your presence in my life. And I don’t mind giving some things up if it means keeping you.”  
  
         “You can’t know that. You don’t know what you’ll be giving up yet.”  
  
         “If I change my mind, I’ll let you know. I will promptly dump you if the prospect of a dull, Nathan-free life suddenly seems more appealing. But don’t count on it. This is how it’s supposed to be; I believe that.”  
  
         “Aeva, I hate that I’m making you do this…”  
  
         “You’re not making me do anything,” she protested, coming around the bar and right up to me. “I love you Nathan. This is my choice.”  
  
         “I love you too, Aeva. So much.”  
  
        She smiled at me and put a hand on my cheek. I bent down to kiss her, but stopped just short. I didn’t like that smell.  
  
         “Aeva,” I said quietly. “Go into the bathroom. Lock the door. Do not come out until I tell you to.”  
  
         “Nathan…what…?”  
  
         “Shh,” I hissed. “Don’t say anything, just go. I can smell someone else. We have an unwanted guest.” Aeva didn’t say another word; she just backed slowly and very nearly silently into the bathroom and closed the door. As soon as I heard the lock click, I bolted out the back door and into the woods. I was furious at how strong the scent was there; he’d been pacing. Watching.  
  
         “You’ve moved.”  
  
        I whirled around to face him and he struck me in the chest, knocking me into the dirt.  
  
         “Viktor,” I growled. “What are you doing here?’  
  
         “I didn’t clear out after our last meeting,” he said, scowling down at me. “You think I’d just scamper off when you’re living vith that girl? I’ve been keeping a close vatch on you, Nataniel.”  
  
         “You mean you’ve been stalking us.”  
  
         “Vatching,” he assured me. “I haven’t been following you around, you conceited _child_. But I’ve been checking in. The fact that this is the first time you’ve noticed me is appalling, really.”  
  
         “I’ve been busy.”  
  
         “That is not an excuse!” He bellowed, yanking me to my feet. “No matter vhat you are doing, your number one priority needs to be _vigilance_.”  
  
         “I don’t have time for a lecture, Viktor. Aeva is waiting.”  
  
         “That’s exactly vhy you need to vatch your back. Have I taught you nothing about keeping yourself safe? You must alvays be prepared for an attack, Nataniel. Especially vith the scent you two leave mixed together; the smell of a human and a vampire should never be this strong. It vill attract others.”  
  
         “Why do you suddenly care about us?” I asked, pushing his hand off of me.  
  
         “I don’t,” he replied plainly. “But I vill not see my son killed.”  
  
         “You know, I haven’t really been your _son_ for quite some time now.”  
  
         “I know,” he snorted. “Not since you dropped Evanov from your name.”  
  
         “I still use Evanov.”  
  
         “Exactly.”  
  
        We stared at each other for a long time. Viktor was the same man he’d always been. Tall, imposing, regal. I would always be a boy next to him. I reminded myself I would always be a boy _because_ of him as well.  
  
         “What do you want, Viktor?”  
  
         “I suppose I vould like to meet the girl,” he sighed. “I vant to know vhat ve’re dealing vith. How stupid she is.”  
  
         “You’re an ass hole, you know that?”  
  
         “And you’re just like your father.”  
  
        We glared at each other again.  
  
        For everything that he’d done and everything that he was, I still trusted him. Not with my life or anyone else’s, but I trusted him to be exactly the same as he always was. He was entirely predictable; not once since I’d met him had he deviated from my expectations. I did not expect him to hurt her.  
  
         “Fine,” I snarled. “Follow me.” He and I trumped back to the house and I walked to the bathroom door, which was still shut and locked.  
  
         “Oh, vell done, Nataniel,” Viktor sneered. “Yes, she vas sure to be safe in there.”  
  
         “You can come out,” I called to her, ignoring the jab. “It’s just Vik.”  
  
        Aeva cracked the door open so that I could see just barely see her face.  
  
         “ _It’s just Vik_ ,” she hissed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
        I shut my eyes and let my head fall against the door frame. There really was no good explanation for why I was suddenly acting like he was safe. At least not any explanation that would make sense to her. Would she accept the response that he and I had spent so many years together that we were permanently bonded? Obviously not in the same way I was bonded to her, but vampires did not change easily, as evidenced by the imperious looking Russian behind me. 935 years later and he still styled his hair in exactly the same way…  
  
         “Nathan.”  
  
        She pulled me out of my thoughts and I opened my eyes again, meeting hers. “He’ll be good,” I promised. She narrowed her eyes, but opened the door wider. Aeva emerged slowly, eyeing my father suspiciously.  
  
         “Viktor,” she said curtly.  
  
         “Human,” he said in return. She scowled.  
  
         “You know my name,” she spat. “I know you do. Use it.”  
  
        Viktor gave her a stony glare.  
  
         “She is over confident. A trait that vill surely get her killed. Much to my relief.”  
  
         “Even on your best behavior, you’re awful,” she scoffed, clearly having heard him.  
  
         “I’m so glad you two are getting along,” I said loudly, making them both look at me.  
  
         “I am giving you an honest assessment,” Viktor piqued, slicking a hand along his hair, as though it were possible for it to have fallen into disarray. “Your mate vould do vell to bite her tongue or it vill get her into trouble.”  
  
         “You know, so far, the only trouble we’ve faced has been from you,” Aeva replied, slipping her hand into mine. I curled my fingers around hers to let her know I agreed. “And this is the first time _we’ve_ ever spoken, so I think it has less to do with my attitude and much more to do with yours.”  
  
         “Do you feel even remotely guilty that you’re going to get him murdered?”  
  
         “Viktor,” I said, cutting across their argument. “Leave it. You’re here to meet Aeva and you’ve met her. If you’re going to antagonize her, you can leave.”  
  
         “No,” she said, touching my arm. “What do you mean? What do you mean I’m going to get him murdered?”  
  
         “He and I have lied to the Volturi about vhat he’s been doing,” Viktor replied, smirking at the fact that he seemed to have shaken her. “Vhen they find out, they vill not be merciful.”  
  
         “ _When_ they find out?”  
  
         “If,” I corrected. “And we’ll stand a better chance at secrecy if you could keep out of their halls, Viktor.”  
  
         “Vell I have to avoid them now,” he scoffed, folding his arms. “I know too much to risk being in any proximity to Aro. I am now _implicated_.”  
  
         “What does that mean?” Aeva asked, looking from his face to mine. “What, is he on our side now?”  
  
         “There are no sides,” he sneered. “This is not a game, child.”  
  
         “He’s on our side,” I answered, punctuating it with an eye roll. “He intends to have friendly relations again. That’s why he asked to come and meet you.”  
  
        She considered this information for a moment before looking at him and saying, “You tried to kill me.”  
  
         “I did,” he agreed. “I did not know then the depth of your…connection to my son. I vas trying to protect him.”  
  
        She went quiet then and simply eyed him up, arms folded. She seemed to be finished speaking, so I gestured to the dining room table. Slowly, all three of keeping careful watch of the other two’s movements, we were seated. Aeva and I were side by side and she took my hand again, holding it in her lap. Viktor sat across from me, back ramrod straight and eyes darting between Aeva and I. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. I shifted so that my arm was around her shoulder and she was tucked into my side, but she kept hold of my hand. Viktor’s eyes narrowed at the change of position.  
  
         “I must know,” he grumbled. “Are you two…intimate?”  
  
         “You absolute do _not_ need to know that,” I responded immediately.  
  
         “I do not vant a description,” he snarled. “But I vould like to know if you are taking precautions vith the human.”  
  
         “Like…condoms?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed. I pursed my lips to keep from laughing.  
  
         “ _No_ ,” Viktor said, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Thankfully _that_ is not a risk. But if you are his mate and you die, he may try to kill himself. And if you…stir him up…you vill most likely not survive the process. I vould like to know if he is taking precautions not to motivate his own suicide.”  
  
         “I’m not going to kill her,” I said plainly. Then I looked down at Aeva and said, much gentler, “You wouldn’t die.”  
  
         “Good,” he huffed, obviously hearing the exchange. “Then you are not. Don’t start.”  
  
         “We’ll do as we please,” I hissed back.  
  
         “Yeah, why do _you_ get so much say in it?”  
  
         “He is mine,” he hissed, leaning forward and making his usual territorial claim.  
  
        Aeva surprised me when she leaned forward and responded, “Hardly,” matching his pose. She was ready to fight him and I bit back the laugh welling in my throat. It would have offended her. I didn’t find it funny that she wanted to attack my father, nor the fact that my father could decimate her. It was that she wasn’t scared of him; not even remotely. And he was _furious_ about it. I tugged gently at her with my arm that still dangled around her shoulders. She permitted me to pull her back against my side and she slid her arms around my waist. I knew this was not her usual, affectionate gesture but instead she was staking her own claim. I permitted it; she was right after all. But so was he. It was a complex situation, to be sure.  
  
         “And what do you mean ‘that’s not a risk,’” she huffed after a moment. I held up a hand to stop Viktor’s response and answered her instead.  
  
         “Vampires don’t reproduce,” I explained. “Not like that.”  
  
         “Oh,” she said, nodding slightly. “Okay. That makes sense. Would you really kill yourself if I died?”  
  
         “I don’t know what I’d do.”  
  
         “I vould not permit it,” Viktor sniffed, picking a speck of dust off of his lapel. His response actually made Aeva relax slightly and this alarmed me. I didn’t like the idea of the two of them working together on something. When they agreed, it made me nervous.  
  
         “I vill be around now,” Viktor said, folding his hands on the table. “I need to assess the level of danger you have put yourselves in. Precisely how many humans have you shared your secret vith, Nataniel?”  
  
         “Just Aeva, but her family…”  
  
        His eyebrows raised.  
  
         “My family knows he’s different,” she finished for me. “They don’t know what he is. We haven’t explicitly said he’s not human, though. They don’t know any more than they needed to when we lived with them. If we’d had this house, we…we could have told them even less.”  
  
        I realized the truth of that statement immediately. We could have hidden my eating habits.  
  
         “I vill assess the damage,” Viktor muttered. “Bring them to this house, vone by vone, and I vill speak to them.”  
  
         “Um, no,” Aeva laughed, offended at the suggestion. “They’re not obligated to speak to you; you can’t interrogate them. That’s not a normal thing that people do, by the way. If you want to make them suspicious, that’s probably the best way to do it. They’ll all be here in a few days; I wanted to have a house warming party. You can come then.”  
  
         “Aeva,” I said, alarmed at the thought, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to—“  
  
         “I vill come,” he said plainly. “Vhen?”  
  
         “Saturday at lunch time.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “Viktor,” I said seriously. He glanced over at me once he heard my tone. “You will come well fed and you will be here early. If you give me even one fraction of a reason to be concerned, I will throw you out. Do you understand?”  
  
         “I vill be on my best behavior,” he said, smiling. It was not a comforting expression, but he vanished before I could argue further.  
  
         “Hey,” Aeva said, getting my attention. “Don’t kill yourself if I get murdered.”  
  
         “You won’t get murdered,” I laughed, kissing the top of her head. “The Volturi don’t know about you and our only risk factor—“ I nodded at Viktor’s now empty seat. “—isn’t going to tell them. Unless some massive, unforeseen disaster takes place, they won’t even get suspicious.”  
  
        She smiled and tightened her arms around me. I grimaced and braced myself for the coming weekend.  
  
        The informal little house warming party started right around eleven, with the entire family showing up at once. Viktor was already seated in the kitchen, firmly set on a barstool where he stayed while Aeva and I gave a tour. He seemed determined not to interact with any of them, now that he was so outnumbered. His plan for interrogation was being thwarted by his own antisocial nature.  
  
        By the time the tour was done, the men were groaning for lunch, which Maria had brought along with her. Both Aeva and I had told her she didn’t have to; we could feed everyone. But she had insisted, so we helped her carry in platters from her car. As she passed out massive portions of rice and spicy smelling beef, everyone settled themselves down, whether that was in the kitchen, the living room, or the patio just outside.  
  
         “And a nice big plate for you,” Maria said warmly, carrying a heavily laden dish to Viktor. “You look like the sort of man that can eat a lot.”  
  
         “No thank you,” he said, curling his lip at the food.  
  
         “But aren’t you hungry?”  
  
         “ _Starving_ ,” he replied, leaning forward and smiling in a way that made Maria blush.  
  
         “Viktor,” I warned. He glanced at me, took in the venomous look on my face, and sat back. Maria also looked over at me and then her eyes widened.  
  
         “Oh!” She gasped. “Oh, you’re like Nathan, aren’t you? Oh, Dios mio, how stupid of me. I’m so sorry.”  
  
         “Vhat do you mean I am like Nataniel?”  
  
         “We don’t eat,” I replied, staring at him hard.  
  
         “Ah,” he nodded. “Yes, I am like Nataniel. I do not eat.”  
  
         “I’m so sorry,” Maria apologized. “I should have known. Qué tonteria.” She set the plate back down and began returning the food to the platters. While she worked, I heard Aeva calling me.  
  
         “Nathan, Chuy wants you to play with him,” she said, walking in from the living room. She had one hand resting on her belly, and the other in the small of her back.  
  
         “You need to sit down,” I laughed at her. She stuck out her hand and I took it, following her to the spot on the living room floor where her nephew had a multitude of toy cars spread out. I sat down beside him, Aeva taking a chair instead, and we played. Although no one noticed, I wasn’t paying attention to Chuy at all. I was listening very carefully to Viktor, and I was tensed to run after him at any moment.  
  
         “You know,” said a deep voice. “You’re missing out. My wife is an excellent cook.” I heard a stool scrape on the floor as Jaime took a seat beside my father.  
  
         “That food’s not really…to my tastes,” Viktor replied. He was being his usual cold self, and if they didn’t know him very well, most people took that for being rude. I bristled at the idea of Viktor offending Jaime.  
  
         “So you two _do_ eat?”  
  
         “Ve do,” allowed Viktor. “But we have very, very strict diets. Let’s say it’s a foreign thing.”  
  
         “You can’t pull that on me,” Jaime laughed. “I’m foreign too, but I don’t have some interesting European accent. Where’s yours from?”  
  
         “Russia.”  
  
         “Ah, sí, sí. Yo recuerdo. Nathan told us that you’re from Moscow. But he’s from Germany, right? You adopted him there?”  
  
         “Yes,” the vampire replied slowly. He was clearly trying not to add any information that might conflict with the story I’d given them, which he didn’t know in the first place.  
  
         “When did you two come to the States?”  
  
         “Nataniel and I came here some time ago. Ve came vith a friend of ours…a doctor.”  
  
         “And where is your friend now?” Jaime asked, obviously surprised that either of us _had_ friends.  
  
         “He is vith his family.”  
  
         “And when did Nathan move out of your house?”  
  
         “He vas young vhen he left.”  
  
         “Why’d he go so soon?”  
  
        Viktor sighed heavily. “He vas tired of me, or perhaps ve just did not see eye to eye anymore. He vanted to go, so he left. And he vanted to go alone, so I let him.”  
  
         “Pues amigo, I can relate.”  
  
         “Oh, how so?”  
  
         “Mi Aevita went to New York,” he explained. “I didn’t want her to go. She was so young. She’s still so very young. I didn’t know what to say to her when she came to me, fresh out of high school and joined at the hip to some gringo, begging to go live in New York City with him. I knew it was a bad idea; I knew something would go wrong. But you can’t tell them that, you know? You can’t tell them ‘this is a mistake.’ That’s not how they learn. You have to let them go, and wait for them to come back and tell you ‘that was a mistake’.”  
  
        Viktor was silent for a long time.  
  
         “That…that is very…sound advice.”  
  
         “It sounds like you could have used that advice a while ago,” Jaime laughed good naturedly. “What’s got you so quiet?”  
  
         “I have been doing that to Nataniel,” Viktor replied. “Telling him he vas making mistakes…I apologize, I don’t know vhy I’m telling you this.”  
  
         “You’re a father talking to a father,” he laughed. “So talk to me.”  
  
         “Perhaps it is different because I am not his real father.”  
  
         “In our family, we have this idea,” Jaime said gently. “A papá is not the same as a padre, you know? Your padre is the one that made you, your papá is the one that raised you. They can be the same person, but the papá is the one that matters, whoever it ends up being.”  
  
         “So, you think I am Nataniel’s…papá?”  
  
         “Sí.”  
  
         “How is it that I cannot manage him? He’s just Nataniel. He’s a good boy, just…headstrong. And you have…how many?”  
  
         “I have four,” Jaime chuckled. “Manuel, Frida, Aeva, and Lidia.”  
  
         “Vait, then who are the others?”  
  
         “Miguelito is my brother’s son. And then Holly is my daughter in law. And there are also my little ones: Mercedes, Jesús, and Guadalupe. And, as tradition dictates, my wife and I take care of my mother and father, and my grandmother. And Carlos, my brother, moved in with us once he lost his wife.”  
  
         “Dear god.”  
  
         “Oh, it’s not so bad,” Jaime laughed. “It’s wonderful really. Everyone I love is right here with me.”  
  
         “Isn’t it hard to do?”  
  
         “It can be hard at times, but for the most part, they can handle themselves. All I have to do is love them, and everything works itself out.”  
  
         “This is everything vorking out?” Viktor snorted. “Your daughter is pregnant. And she’s living vith…vith my son.”  
  
         “She’s home, she’s safe, she has a house, Nathan is good to her, and she will make a wonderful mother. So, yes, I call that things working out.”  
  
         “Safe is a relative term, unfortunately.”  
  
         “I know,” Jaime agreed. “You and your son have a lot of secrets. But Aeva seems to know them.”  
  
         “She does.”  
  
         “And do you think Nathan will protect her? From whatever comes?”  
  
         “He vill.”  
  
         “Then I’ll leave it be. Whatever comes will come.”  
  
         “Vhatever comes…vill come,” Viktor echoed quietly.  
  
        Everyone left after a while, and Viktor remained silent for almost the entire duration, though he moved from room to room. It wasn’t the same silence as before; not antisocial, just pensive. When Jaime stood to leave, Viktor rose as well.  
  
         “Let me help you up,” he said, extending a hand. Aeva didn’t think much of it; I always helped her up. Perhaps she thought it was usual for all vampires, but many of us never touched humans unless we intended to kill them. It can be difficult at first to find the balance between being overly gentle and too rough. I watched Viktor like a hawk as he took Jaime’s elbow and pulled him up off the sofa where he’d been relaxing. When Jaime grimaced, I stepped forward.  
  
         “Oh, no, no,” he said, sticking a hand out. “Please, don’t both of you help me. Don’t make me feel old.”  
  
         “If you’d prefer,” I smiled. “But you’re alright?”  
  
         “Fine, just a side pang,” he replied. Maria was working very hard at keeping her face emotionless, which Aeva noticed much more than Viktor offering to help her father up. The pair of them were leaving in Jaime’s truck and we walked them out. Aeva hugged and kissed her parents good bye, and I wasn’t surprised at all when Maria stuck out her arms for me as well. I laughed and embraced her, only to find her replaced by Jaime once she released me. Viktor stepped up quickly to shake Jaime’s hand before he left. As they pulled away, I turned to my father.  
  
         “What was that?” I laughed.  
  
         “Vhat vas vhat?”  
  
         “You were all over Aeva’s dad.”  
  
         “I don’t know vhat you’re talking about,” he said, rolling his eyes. He went back to the house without looking at us again.  
  
         “He was all over him?” Aeva asked, wrapping an arm around my middle. “Or all over him by…Viktor standards?” I grinned.  
  
         “Viktor standards. He doesn’t usually talk to humans. But he seemed to really like your father.”  
  
         “Speaking of my dad,” Aeva began, but she stopped short.  
  
         “Yes?”  
  
         “Um…nevermind,” she muttered. “Let’s go in.”  
  



	19. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things only ever go well for so long

###  _Aeva_

        I noticed it pretty early on once everyone had arrived. Papá wasn’t himself. He was slower, he was tired, he was quieter; he was not the man I was used to. My Papá liked to chase us kids, and when we grew up, he chased his grand kids. He would catch us up, whirl us around over his head, and give us the biggest, gentlest hugs a man can give. He would sit on the floor with us by the windows, where the sun hit the carpet and tell us stories, acting them out with his shadow puppets. He would wink at Mamá whenever she looked at him, kiss her as they passed each other. And if you caught them alone, you could bet you’d see him looking at her the way a man should look at his wife.  
  
        Today, though he was clearly excited and very impressed, he was not the same Papá. I could tell he was still himself inside—he still wanted to be the Papá I knew—but something was keeping him from it. Something was making it difficult for him. The same way mi bisabuelo had…no. No. I pushed that thought out of my head.  
  
        But all the same, I watched my father carefully.  
  
         “Aevita, we’ve gotta be straight with you,” Manuel said, throwing an arm around my shoulders and startling me out of my thoughts.  
  
         “Straight about what?” I asked, looking up at him. He looked in front of him and I followed his eyes, finding Holly standing before us. They both had on serious faces.  
  
         “Your house,” he said. “It’s beautiful.”  
  
         “Agreed,” Holly nodded. “You and Nathan did a great job. Oh, and Nathan? Wonderful.”  
  
         “Wonderful,” Manuel affirmed. “You two are going to do great here. But Nathan’s dad…”  
  
         “What about him?” I laughed, and they shared a look.  
  
         “The dude freaks us out,” Holly said plainly. “Like, a lot.”  
  
         “Heebie jeebies,” Manuel agreed. “Like, I know he’s like Nate, but, he’s…”  
  
         “…not like Nate at all,” Holly finished. Manuel nodded. “Nathan is not freaky. Viktor? Freakiest guy I’ve ever met.”  
  
         “He’s not that bad,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Is that all you came over here to tell me?”  
  
         “Pretty much,” Manuel replied. “Oh, and we’re leaving.”  
  
         “Oh, okay. Goodbye you guys,” I said, hugging them both. “Thank you so much for coming.”  
  
        They gathered up Mercedes and said goodbye to Nathan as well before heading out. I walked them to the door and waved them off. Tío Carlos and Miguelito left shortly after they did, taking the viejos with them so, since Frida had already left to get Lupe and Chuy home for their naps, only Mamá and Papá were left.  
  
         “Come here, hijita,” Papá said, holding out his hands. I smiled and walked over to where he was sitting on the couch and he settled me in between him and Mamá.  
  
         “So what do you think?” I asked, laying my head on his shoulder.  
  
         “I think he’s a decent man,” he replied. “He’s guarded, but he’s got a good heart.”  
  
         “What are you talking about?”  
  
         “Nathan’s father,” he laughed. “What were you talking about?”  
  
         “The house,” I laughed back.  
  
         “Oh, that’s very nice too.”  
  
         “It’s beautiful, Estrella,” Mamá said, stroking my hair. “You and Nathan have a wonderful home, and your baby is so lucky to have a nursery like the one you made.”  
  
         “Thank you, Mamá,” I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “And thank you both for coming to see it.”  
  
         “Of course we came,” Papá smiled. “You said you had a big TV.” I rolled my eyes and he chuckled and rested his head on mine. “I’m so proud of you, Aeva Estrella.”  
  
        We stayed like that for a while longer before Mamá finally decided they ought to head home. She and I got up and I helped her gather the dishes she’d brought over and put them into Papá’s truck. When we came back in, Papá was struggling to stand.  
  
         “Let me help you up,” said Viktor, stepping forward. He took my father’s elbow and began to gently lift him. There was a flicker of recognition in my head that it was out of character for Viktor to do that, but I was more focused on the pained way Papá was moving and the grimace on his face. Nathan moved toward him to help as well.  
  
         “Oh, no, no,” Papá laughed, sticking a hand out. “Please, don’t both of you help me. Don’t make me feel old.”  
  
         “If you’d prefer,” Nathan relented. “But you’re alright?”  
  
         “Fine, just a side pang,” he replied. I glanced at Mamá, who was staring right at me. Her facial features were frozen and she dropped her eyes quickly. She used to do that when I asked questions about bisabuelo—No. I stopped that thought again. It couldn’t be happening all over again. If it were, Mamá would have told me, right?  
  
        Once he was standing, Papá took Mamá’s hand and they led the way outside. I gave them both goodbye hugs and kisses, and Nathan leaned down to accept his kisses as well. Even Viktor stepped forward to shake my father’s hand before they left. Once they were gone, Nathan turned to Viktor.  
  
         “What was that?”  
  
         “Vhat vas vhat?” Viktor asked, sounding mildly embarrassed.  
  
         “You were all over Aeva’s dad.”  
  
         “I don’t know vhat you’re talking about,” he said, rolling his eyes. He turned and stalked off toward the house.  
  
         “He was all over him?” I asked, putting an arm around Nathan. “Or all over him by…Viktor standards?” That made him smile.  
  
         “Viktor standards. He doesn’t usually talk to humans,” he replied. “But he seemed to really like your father.”  
  
         “Speaking of my dad,” I said. I should tell him. But saying things out loud made them final. I didn’t want that, so I didn’t say anymore.  
  
         “Yes?”  
  
         “Um…never mind. Let’s go in.”  
  
        I went back into the house without another word, gladly accepting Viktor’s help up the front step; steps were getting difficult. Once I was inside, I sat down on a stool at the breakfast bar and Viktor took the one beside me.  
  
         “Your father,” he said quietly. I looked over at him and he was staring at his own hands.  
  
         “Yeah?”  
  
         “He is a good man,” he said after a moment. “He is a good…father.”  
  
         “Yeah, he is,” I agreed, looking down at the counter top.  
  
         “So vhen…um…vhen will the baby…?” He asked awkwardly after a long silence.  
  
         “In about four months,” I replied. “Not long until he’s here.”  
  
         “Oh, it’s a boy then?”  
  
         “Yup.”  
  
         “Oh,” he said, nodding. “Nataniel…he, ah…didn’t tell me that. Are you nervous?”  
  
        I stared at him.  
  
         “Right, right,” he nodded, looking down again. “Vell, I should let you know, I vill probably be around more often now. To…keep an eye on things.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “But for now, I am going to go.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “You are very quiet now,” he said, looking over at me again. “Is something…ah, never mind. That is for Nataniel, no? Okay, I am going to leave.”  
  
         “Goodbye.”  
  
         “Give my best to your father when you see him again.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
        He nodded awkwardly and stood up. I didn’t hear the sliding glass door open, but there was a prolonged silence telling me he had left. I looked up and, sure enough, I was alone in the kitchen. I peered through the glass door and there was Nathan, sitting alone on a patio chair, staring out at the forest. He had opted to give Viktor and I space to bond. I stood up and decided to go sit with him. He looked over when I opened the door.  
  
         “I’m not going to lie,” he said as I approached. “It’s very strange to me that you just talked to Viktor. You had a conversation with him. I really don’t know how to handle it.”  
  
         “Sorry,” I said, giving him a weak smile. He pulled another chair over, right next to his. I sat down and thought for a moment. Should I tell him? It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about, but what if he knew something I didn’t? What if he could…see something I couldn’t? I took a deep breath.  
  
         “Nathan.”  
  
         “Yes, love?”  
  
         “You saw how tired Papá was, right?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Okay, so what exactly did you see?”  
  
         “Well, he seemed out of breath while we were walking around the house,” he replied. “He’s coughing. What does he do for work?”  
  
         “I—what? He’s a carpenter. Why?”  
  
         “I just wanted to know if he’d changed jobs.”  
  
         “No, he’s been a carpenter for as long as I can remember. Why would that matter?”  
  
         “I thought maybe that could have been what I was smelling. His scent has changed.”  
  
         “He smells different?” I asked. “Like, his blood?”  
  
         “Yes. It’s bitter now. He used to smell like you. But now there’s something else, too.”  
  
        I went a little cold. Could he really smell that? I’d never told him about my father; about my great grandfather. He didn’t know.  
  
         “Aeva, what’s wrong?”  
  
         “Can you smell when someone is sick?”  
  
         “Like vomit?”  
  
         “No, like a virus or an infection,” I clarified. He considered this for a moment.  
  
         “I’m not entirely sure; Dr. Cullen can, but he’s spent years refining that. I’ve lived with a few diabetics though, and I could tell by their scent when they needed insulin. I suppose it wouldn’t be all that surprising if I could smell a virus. Why do you ask?”  
  
         “When did my dad’s scent change?”  
  
         “Well, it didn’t happen suddenly,” he replied, smiling gently and putting his hand over mine. “It was just very clear about a week and a half ago. Aeva, why are you so worried? Is there something I should know?”  
  
         “Um, yes,” I squeaked. I couldn’t handle this; I was going to burst into tears any second now. Maybe if I kept talking, I could put it off. “Has anyone told you about Don Ramón?”  
  
         “No, who is that?” He asked, sitting up straighter. I didn’t need to look at him to know he was reading my face; he was worried.  
  
         “Don Ramón was Doña Luisa’s husband,” I sniffed. “He looked like Papá, just very old. He and I were close when I was little. We stayed with him in Oaxaca.”  
  
         “So you were very small, then.”  
  
         “Yeah,” I smiled, remembering my time in Mexico. There had been lots of children, just like me and my siblings; all of us brown and wild, ducking under legs and stealing food off the counter while our mothers cooked. “Don Ramón used to take Papá and Tío Carlos into the woods when they were boys. They camped together just like Papá did with me.” Nathan was leaning toward me, stroking my arm. He was listening avidly.  
  
         “What happened to him?”  
  
         “Well, he was old, even then,” I said, wiping at the tears stinging my eyes. “But he also got sick. It happened slowly at first, and then very fast. Luisa was so heart broken right when it started; the same thing had killed his father before him. It...it seems to run in some of the men.”  
  
         “What is it?”  
  
         “We don’t know,” I continued, refusing to sob, though my voice was shaky. “But it started by just making him sick, sort of like the flu. Then his skin got thinner, he bruised easier. If he got cut, it took a long time to stop bleeding. But it was…it was the coughing that…” I went quiet and let my tears drip into my lap. Nathan took my hands in both of his; I felt his lips on my knuckles.  
  
         “He used to cough blood sometimes,” I whispered. “But he was so fragile inside and he coughed so hard that…at one point…he just couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop bleeding.”  
  
         “Aeva,” he breathed. Suddenly I was not in my own chair; I was in his, on his lap. He had me cradled to his chest, my head nested under his.  
  
         “We all thought…maybe abuelo…but not…”  
  
         “Hush,” Nathan whispered. “Hush, love.”  
  
         “We all knew it was coming,” I said, tears still flowing. “I just…It’s not supposed to be so soon.”  
  
         “Are you sure that’s what it is?” He asked gently. “I mean, it could just be old age.”  
  
         “Papá’s not that old,” I sighed, smiling ruefully. “I’ll have to talk to Mamá soon. I know she’s noticed; I could see it in her face when they were leaving. She’s probably taken him to see a doctor.”  
  
         “When will you ask about it?”  
  
         “I don’t know. I don’t want to hear it.”  
  
        Nathan didn’t say anything else. He put a hand under my chin and lifted my head, resting his lips against my forehead. As we sat there, I felt my baby move inside me. What would happen if my son were to be born too late to know his grandfather? What if my baby would die the same way he was dying now? The thought made me cry harder, and Nathan slid his arms around me.  
  



	20. Blessed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva learns some new things about her beau (long chapter)

###  _Nathan_

        My mind was racing that night as Aeva laid against me. She had cried herself to sleep and if she hadn’t exhausted herself I doubt she would have ever dozed off. My eyes had stung watching her; I wish I could have cried with her. It was truly heart breaking to see her sobbing for her great grandfather and for fear of losing her father. I wish I could have comforted her in a bigger way; told her Jaime would be fine. But I couldn’t deny what I smelled. Anything that could make a human’s blood smell like that was not something to ignore; I knew something was seriously wrong with Aeva’s father.  
  
        I was dreading the day that was surely coming, when Jaime Sanchez would no longer exist. I didn’t know the man very well, but I knew Aeva adored him. It was clear that he was a fabulous parent and an amazing man. I wished I knew him better; that I had time to know him better. When he died and Aeva was hurting, I wanted to hurt in the same way. To understand what she would be going through. To some extent, I did know; at the very least, I used to. My father and mother had both died of illnesses. I didn’t remember much of their deaths, but I remembered the feeling of inevitability leading up to them. I hated the fact that Aeva was feeling that now.  
  
        I watched the room light up as the sun rose, hoping it wouldn’t get so bright that it would wake her. I wanted her to sleep for as long as she could. Sleep would put off making her feel again, and all the stress she was going through certainly wasn’t helping her baby. I kissed her temple and ran a hand along her round belly, saying a silent prayer, begging some more powerful being to make her baby perfect. She deserved something perfect.  
  
        I wanted to have her wake up to breakfast in bed, maybe run a bath for her, anything. But I knew she preferred to wake up with me by her side, so I stayed where I was. It was around ten o’clock when she finally stirred. She rubbed her still red eyes with both hands and rolled away from me, onto her back.  
  
         “I feel awful,” she mumbled, her voice cracking.  
  
        I wanted to say _I know_ but I didn’t. I didn’t say anything. I just rolled onto my side so that I was against her and took one of her hands in mine, sliding my other arm under her shoulders. I set my face against her head, in her hair, and waited.  
  
         “Nathan,” she said after a moment. I kissed her ear, to show that I’d heard her. “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t lose him. I just came home, I can’t lose mi Papá.”  
  
        I turned her head towards me as she began to cry again. She rolled onto her side as well and put one hand under my face and the other behind my head, running her fingers through my hair. Her face rested against my neck and I could feel her tears as they hit my skin, scalding hot at first but rapidly cooling. I curled up the arm she was laying on, so my hand was in her hair, and wrapped my free arm around her.  
  
         “Don’t let me break, okay?” She whispered.  
  
         “I won’t hurt you, Aeva,” I murmured, gently kissing her forehead. Her fist clenched in my hair and sobs wracked her body. I pressed my lips to her forehead as she clung to me.  
  
         “I don’t mean right now,” she choked through her tears. “I mean don’t let me break if he dies. I feel like I’ll fall apart.” It took me a long time to make words come out.  
  
         “Okay,” I said into her skin, fully comprehending what she meant. “I’ll hold you together.”  
  
        She cried for a long time again, but she ran out of tears eventually. We laid in our bed, Aeva’s head on my chest, and we breathed.  
  
         “You can’t make tears.”  
  
        It wasn’t a question, but I answered it anyways.  
  
         “No, I can’t. I wish I could though.”  
  
         “Why?”  
  
         “It’s hurts to cry without them.”  
  
        She went silent again. After a few more minutes, she pushed herself into a sitting position.  
  
         “I’m going to go shower.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “Then, I’m going to go out to the studio.”  
  
         “Do you want me to come?”  
  
         “No,” she said over her shoulder. “I’d like to be alone.”  
  
        I stayed in the bed while she went into the bathroom. When she came out, she was dressed; she’d taken clothes in with her. She leaned against the door frame for a moment, eyes shut, hand on her stomach. When she opened her eyes again, they were watering.  
  
         “That hurt,” she said, smiling a little. “Big kick.”  
  
         “Are you alright?”  
  
         “Yeah, I’m fine.” She pulled her cardigan closed around her and walked over to me, slipping a hand behind my head and pulling me to her for a kiss. After another weak smile, she walked out of the room. I listened as she went down the stairs and out the sliding glass door. I heard her open her studio door and close it behind her. She turned on the light, sat down at the drawing table, and swiveled in her chair. And then nothing after that. I sighed heavily and rubbed my face.  
  
         “Vik,” I called into my hands. “Viktor.”  
  
         “Did you two fight?” He had appeared on the fainting sofa at the end of the bed.  
  
         “No, we didn’t fight.”  
  
         “Nataniel, vhat has gotten into you?” He asked, furrowing his eye brows. “Vhy do you sound like that?”  
  
         “I don’t _sound_ like anything.” I was being unnecessarily hostile.  
  
         “Okay,” he said, putting his hands up. “But then vhat’s wrong? I’m assuming you didn’t call for me for nothing.”  
  
         “I didn’t,” I laughed bitterly. “And where were you, by the way?”  
  
         “Valking around. I vasn’t close to you; I actually just stepped into hearing range a few moments ago.”  
  
         “Lucky timing.”  
  
         “Sure, now vhat is it?”  
  
         “Something is wrong with Jaime,” I sighed. He sat up bolt straight.  
  
         “Like vhat?”  
  
         “He’s dying, Viktor. She’s going to lose her father.”  
  
         “I—ah, vell…I don’t…ah,” he stammered for a moment. “Vhat—vhat do you vant me for?”  
  
        I looked up at him and threw my hands out in the universal sign of _I have no fucking clue_. I had no idea why I’d called him. What was I expecting? This was Viktor Evanov.  
  
  
  
        This was my father.  
  
  
  
         “I want…You should…I—um…” I had to think. I was drawing a blank but there he was, at the end of the bed, staring at me. I wasn’t saying anything; I’d been an ass to him so many, many times over. I’d run out on him, I’d blown him off, I’d back talked him, I’d fought him. And there he was. Just looking at me. Ready for an order, a request, for whatever I needed from him.  
  
         “I—Viktor …”  
  
         “Vhat? Vhat do you need?”  
  
        I stared at my still up turned hands and began to move them, slowly and carefully. I turned them so that my thumbs faced up, they spread apart so my arms were outstretched, and I sat up straight. Then, ever so slowly, I looked back up at Viktor.  
  
         “You—you need a…hug?”  
  
         “Um, yes. Yes I do.”  
  
         “Okay then.” And he got off the sofa, walked around to the side of the bed and leaned into my open arms, putting his own pair awkwardly around me.  
  
        This was foreign; he and I had never hugged before. I’d been a vampire for more than 270 years and this was the first time I’d ever embraced the man that made me. And sitting there, in his ungainly arms, I knew what I wanted.  
  
         “What do I do?” I whispered. “What do I do for her?”  
  
         “Vhat do you mean?” He asked, pulling away.  
  
         “Tell me what to do!” I shouted, riding an upsurge I hadn’t seen coming. “Give me advice! Take care of me!”  
  
         “Vhat? I don’t—vhy are you yelling?”  
  
         “Aeva is out there!” I said, pointing out the window at her studio. “She’s just sitting there alone, waiting for her father to die of the same disease that killed his grandfather! And what am I supposed to do? How do I help her, Viktor? What do I do?”  
  
         “Vhy are you asking me?”  
  
         “Because you’re my father! And she’s going to lose hers. I have a father and that is going to be the one thing she doesn’t.”  
  
        He went silent and stared at me.  
  
         “It’s not like it vill surprise her,” he said after a moment. “She knows vhat to expect. You said Jaime’s grandfather died the same vay?”  
  
         “Great, Viktor,” I sighed, flopping backwards onto the bed. “The fact that she already knows the exact manner of her father’s death is very helpful.”  
  
         “I just think you should consider it,” he replied. “She vill prepare herself. I think that perhaps…you are underestimating her. Don’t assume she needs help before she asks for it. She’ll tell you vhat she needs vhen she needs it.”  
  
         “So what do I do now?” I asked, lifting my head to look at him again.  
  
         “Just stick around.”  
  
         “Stay close, huh?”  
  
         “Yes,” he nodded. “You can’t make somevone do something. They’ll come to you vhen they’re ready. You just have to be there vhen they call.”  
  
        I stared at him then. I didn’t know what else to do. You just have to be there when they call. That was good advice.  
  
         “That was so…paternal.”  
  
         “Yes, vell, I’ve had some time to figure out the whole ‘dad’ thing,” he grumbled.  
  
        I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I laughed and I sat up and I hugged him again. He hugged back, still cautious, but more natural. When I released him, he seemed frazzled.  
  
         “Do you vant me to stay now, or vhat?” He asked. “I’m not going to live vith you two. I still don’t approve of this.”  
  
         “I know,” I smiled. “You don’t have to stay.”  
  
         “Okay then.”  
  
         “Actually, you can go whenever. I know it must be hard for you to smell her.”  
  
         “It is,” he agreed. “And I vill leave. And Nataniel…”  
  
         “Yes?”  
  
         “You’re a very strange boy.”  
  
        He vanished.  
  
        I looked back out the window at the studio; I still couldn’t hear her doing anything in there, but I could hear her breathing. Right then, that was enough for me.  
  
        That night, when she went to sleep, I kissed her forehead and rolled down the blankets. I had decided I’d better eat while I had the time. When I walked out the door, it occurred to me to call for Viktor, to see if he was still around. But I didn’t need to waste the breath; I could smell him. He ‘d been watching us again, but he was also keeping a perimeter around the house; he was guarding us. I both silently cursed and thanked him as I went in to find my food. I was back in bed before Aeva woke and when she did, she stared straight at me.  
  
         “You went hunting.”  
  
         “I did,” I said with a grin. She smiled back. I gently touched the creases by her eyes and traced the smile lines around her mouth. I had a feeling that they might be a rarity in the coming days.  
  
         “I didn’t even know you’d left.”  
  
         “I try very hard not to wake you,” I confessed. She smiled again, smaller this time, and stretched up for a kiss. I obliged her, putting a finger under her chin to hold her there for a moment longer; always just a moment longer.  
  
        She got up to take her shower and stayed in there longer than usual. I couldn’t hear any sobbing under the sound of running water, so I made her breakfast in a loose sort of inner peace. When she came down stairs, I slid her plate across the breakfast bar.  
  
         “I don’t know if you’re hungry for this, but I felt like making waffles.”  
  
         “Nathan,” she laughed. “That sounds…amazing. Would you be offended if I put a horrendous amount of syrup on them?”  
  
         “Of course not,” I grinned taking the syrup out of the cabinet for her. She devoured the plate of food, and I was happy to see it. I was worried that the way she was feeling might affect her appetite. The concern seemed unwarranted as she cut happily into her food, holding each bite up to watch the syrup drip off before she put it in her mouth. I watched her play and slowly became aware that she was staring at me.  
  
         “Don’t watch me eat,” she said, mouth full. “That’s weird.”  
  
         “I’m sorry,” I said, turning to clean up the dishes I had used instead.  
  
         “Why do you watch me do things?” she asked, setting her fork down. Her voice didn’t have any hints in it, so I glanced over to see her face. She was leaning on the counter with her chin propped in her hand. Her eyebrows were up: just curiosity. Good, I hadn’t made her uncomfortable.  
  
         “I like you,” I replied simply. “I like to see what you’re doing.”  
  
         “And things like eating and sleeping, those are the fascinating processes you focus on?”  
  
         “No,” I laughed. “Well, I do like being with you when you sleep. But I just like seeing…all the things you do. Your daily tasks of living are _all_ fascinating processes.”  
  
         “Well, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered that I’m so interesting to you,” she said, smiling. “I like to watch you too. I like watching you talk to my family and play with the kids. But I want to see what you do.”  
  
         “What I…do?”  
  
         “Yeah, what you _do_ ,” she laughed, her added emphasis not helping me understand. “Like, how I paint and things. That’s what I _do_. How do you fill your time? I mean, before me…what did you _do_?”  
  
         “That’s…that’s a harder question than you think it is,” I said, bending to lean on the counter across from her. I didn’t like talking about things that distanced me from her; that made it clear how different we were. Each time she pulled one out of me, it made me second guess if my decision to stay with her was truly in her best interest. I could never give her up, not fully, but I could go away. At the same time, whatever she wanted from me was hers, and what she wanted was usually just my presence. No matter how much these conversations bothered me, I wouldn’t go anywhere until she sent me away. And besides, this seemed to be distracting her from her own thoughts.  
  
         “What makes it so tough?” She asked, running a finger through the remaining syrup on her plate and licking it off.  
  
         “Having…having something that you _do_ ,” I began, unsure of how best to explain, “isn’t natural for us. Having a passion or a pursuit, something that you devote time and study to, is a very human behavior. You see it come about in stationary covens; it’s much more likely as well if a vampire doesn’t feed on humans.”  
  
         “You don’t eat people.”  
  
         “I don’t,” I agreed. “But lifestyle beats out diet and Viktor and I…we were wanderers. Even as members of the Volturi, we weren’t really stationary. We were messengers; we traveled. Once we left them, we just kept moving. I only ever hunt animals, but Viktor doesn’t. You have to change locations to avoid detection if you feed on humans.”  
  
         “But you had almost three hundred years of time!”  
  
         “And I spent it as a vampire, _behaving_ like a vampire,” I sighed. “It’s a much more instinctual lifestyle than the one you lead.”  
  
         “I’m really sorry, but I’m still not following.”  
  
         “In some respects…it’s…similar. When you strip it down to motivations, it’s very similar,” I said, the right sentences slowly coming together in my head. “Vampires want what they want for the same reasons that humans do: it makes us happy, it feels good.”  
  
         “Pleasure drive.”  
  
         “Pleasure drive,” I agreed. “In that respect, it’s very human. But humans take pleasure in different things, like art and music and literature.”  
  
         “Vampires don’t like any of that?”  
  
         “Let me struggle through this one, I’m almost there,” I laughed, taking her hand in mine. I pressed it to my face as I thought, my lips against her wrist. “When we change, we get a completely new body. It looks similar to our former selves, but not a single cell is the same. We retain certain aspects of our past lives, specific talents and traits—some of us even keep memories—but we’re a new animal.”  
  
         “Like a butterfly.”  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “Like a butterfly,” she repeated, smiling. “After they build their cocoon as a caterpillar, they dissolve into goo. Then all their cells rearrange into a butterfly, but they still remember things when they come out.”  
  
         “You’re reaching,” I teased, kissing her palm. “But if it helps you to understand, go ahead and make the association. Our new bodies come with new desires and abilities; we have a bloodlust and a prey drive; we’re very strong and we’re very fast. We _growl_.”  
  
        She laughed and I kissed her palm again.  
  
         “Like I said, we’re a new animal. There are parts of our human selves in us, but it’s not difficult to forget them; to put them to sleep. Humanity is a funny thing. It is only maintained—even for humans—through continual exposure to _other_ humans. You’re social creatures; pack animals. You need to see each other and speak to each other to develop properly. Even at your most isolated, you’re surrounded by reminders that other people exist. You read books written by someone, you wear clothes sewn by someone, you eat food harvested by someone. Even your insecurities are based on how well you measure up to other humans. You’re all very involved with each other. Because of that, humanity is not a state, it’s an act. It’s something you participate in.”  
  
         “And you don’t participate?”  
  
         “We don’t have to,” I replied with a shrug. “We don’t need those things. We don’t have to speak to one another or to humans to stay healthy. We don’t need the clothes or the food that you make. We don’t need houses and we don’t need your forms of entertainment. If a vampire participates in those things, it’s not out of necessity; it’s voluntary, or at the very least, habitual. As a vampire, when you leave all the trappings of humanity behind yourself, it fades away. It goes dormant. Then you’re left with just the vampire.”  
  
         “So what do vampires do when they’re not pretending to be human?”  
  
         “We use our bodies. It wakes up something deep and primal to use our strength and our speed to their limits. To hunt and feed on the biggest things we can find. We seek each other out and pick fights.”  
  
         “You just like…fight other vampires? For fun?”  
  
         “For sport, yes,” I laughed. “It feels good. It feels good to break each other; it feels good to finally come up against something that can break _you_. That actually hurts when it hits you.”  
  
         “That’s…barbaric.”  
  
         “It’s animalistic.”  
  
        She sat quietly for a moment, chewing over this new information. I kissed her fingertips and watched her face carefully, trying to guess at what conclusions she might be reaching.  
  
         “Is that…is that why it doesn’t bother you when Viktor…like…attacks?”  
  
         “Yes,” I grinned. “The fighting that we do…it’s…it’s meaningless, ultimately. He’s my father; I go back to him, he comes back to me. But he’s a vampire that raised a vampire, so we relate to each other as vampires, not humans. He’s been uncomfortable with me though, ever since I left him. He knows I’m different than I was when it was just the two of us.”  
  
         “Because you started living with people again?”  
  
         “Mhmm. It started to wake up that old part of me again.”  
  
         “Was it…was it really gone? Your humanity?”  
  
         “Not completely; I am not capable of shutting it off completely unless I am totally isolated from humans. Every time I see one, I hear about their life; I am forced to acknowledge their humanity and the significance of it. It makes it so I can’t lose my conscience. Other vampires can; I can’t.”  
  
         “But it got…stronger…with the old people?”  
  
         “Very much so. And I started to… _do_ things.” I smiled sheepishly and her eyes glittered. “I had to fill my time at night, while they slept. I did listen to make sure they didn’t stop breathing or have a stroke, but I also kept myself busy. I liked…movies.”  
  
         “Movies?” She said, taking her hand back to lean her chin in her palms. She was riveted. “What kind of movies?”  
  
         “All of them. Any kind. Lots of classic films; I was working off the collections my people already owned. I like Chaplin and Hitchcock.”  
  
         “Like, Alfred Hitchcock? Of horror fame?”  
  
         “Yes,” I grinned. “And I did listen to music, but that was old too. Ragtime, big band, swing…I read; I like history. I was there for a lot of it but, like I said, I wasn’t participating. It’s interesting to see what I missed. What else…I learned to cook. I like that. I like that quite a lot.”  
  
         “You’re good at it,” she said, smiling. I smiled back. “What’s been your favorite thing so far? Your favorite human thing?”  
  
        I laughed and ran a finger down the side of her face. “My favorite thing has been humans. I like how you are. I like how you trust and how you rely on others; I like taking care of you.”  
  
         “Of people in general, or just me?”  
  
         “Both.”  
  
         “So you’re…you’re going to be stationary, right? Like, me and the baby, we don’t have to…wander?”  
  
         “We’ll have to move frequently,” I said, frowning. “Your family understands that I don’t change, but the neighbors won’t. But it won’t be annually. I can usually manage five years at a time.”  
  
         “So what will you do? To occupy yourself? You can’t just watch me paint all the time.”  
  
         “I’ll take care of this, then,” I said, reaching across the counter to tap her stomach. “So you can paint by yourself.”  
  
         “And when he goes to school? And you’re just around…bored?”  
  
         “What would you recommend?”  
  
         “Would you ever go to school?” She asked, still alight at all her newfound discoveries. “Have you been to college?”  
  
         “No, but I am a CNA. I took night courses. It made it easier to get jobs.”  
  
         “You’re a CNA! Nathan, that’s wonderful! Would you ever become a nurse, or a doctor? Vampires can be doctors, right? You said you know one! You could go into geriatrics.”  
  
         “You want me to be an old people doctor?” I asked, propping my chin on my hands to match her pose. I loved seeing her so excited. I wanted her to keep going.  
  
         “You would be the best, sweetest old people doctor. Or you could go to culinary school! You could be a chef!”  
  
         “ _That_ I would do. It would improve your home life.”  
  
         “A live in chef, I would just _die_ ,” she laughed. “Not literally, of course. But I would let you get me very, very fat.” I chuckled and she went on with her fantasies. “You have such a good eye for décor, too; you could do that! Interior decorating! Or maybe you just have a good eye for art. You could be a collector. Oh, I would love that. Can you imagine? We could have a Rembrandt, right in our house! I mean, I’m really partial to Khalo…I like El Greco too, the dark stuff.”  
  
         “Dalí?” I asked. “Gaudi?”  
  
         “Both, yes! Please be an art collector, at least for a little while.”  
  
        I chuckled again. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll study while you sleep.”  
  
         “Yes, study art after you learn Spanish for me.”  
  
         “Ya lo hecho.”  
  
        She paused and stared at me, eyes huge, with a great big smile creeping across her face. “Ya has aprendido español?” I nodded and she laughed, actually clapping her hands. “You speak the language of my people! I like it! Say something sexy!”  
  
        I dropped my head down onto the counter to laugh.  
  
         “No, you’re right,” she said, looping one of my curls around her finger. “Save it for later.” I groaned and she stretched forward, gently kissing the back of my head. When I looked back up, she was sliding her finger through the syrup again, smiling to herself.  
  
         “What about you?” I asked, taking the bottle and squeezing another drop onto her plate. She wiped it up and popped it into her mouth. “What will you do?”  
  
         “I already have my hobbies.”  
  
         “You could go to school too,” I suggested. “Study art.”  
  
        She looked up at me, more thoughtfully this time. “I…I could, couldn’t I? I mean…because of you.”  
  
        I furrowed my eyebrows. “Not because of me; you’ll get in on your own. You’re very good.”  
  
         “No, no, because you’re here,” she explained. “You could watch the baby while I’m in class; I won’t have to worry about daycare…I mean, unless you’re also in class. But then we could hire…” She stopped and looked down.  
  
         “We could hire a nanny,” I continued for her. “Absolutely. And you could pick any school in the country; any school in the world. Your tuition would be covered.”  
  
        She peeked up at me. “Are you…sure?”  
  
         “Aeva,” I laughed, walking around the bar to sit on the stool beside her. “You can keep asking as many times as you need to, but my answer is always going to be the same. Yes. I’ll buy you whatever you want. Better yet, you just buy what you want. The money is yours, you can have it.”  
  
         “It’s just really weird and uncomfortable!” She huffed. “I don’t want to use you like an ATM.”  
  
         “That money sits in accounts and rots,” I shrugged. “Money is part of the humanity game. Without help, I won’t use it.” She ran her hands over her belly as she considered this. The movement was becoming reflexive for her. I knew the topic of money was tense so I left it alone. I spent the rest of the day distracting her further. She showed me her own series of “classic” films: the John Hugh’s filmography. She swore to me that she could put her lipstick on like Molly Ringwald and I didn’t doubt her. It was nice to have her excited about something, but I knew she was avoiding calling her mother. She would do it when she was ready to; like Viktor had said, my job was simply to be there when she needed me.  
  
        The day came a few weeks later. She and I had stopped by her parent’s house for dinner on multiple occasions, but she had avoided the topic of her father’s health at all costs, choosing instead to scold me for buying a car without her knowledge. Meanwhile, I noticed the bitter scent in his blood getting stronger; not rapidly, but it was happening. I never told her. If she wanted to know, she would ask. When she finally did, it was over a late breakfast on a lazy Saturday morning.  
  
        She was picking at the pancakes I had made her, digging out the blueberries. I was seated across from her at the table, my feet propped on the chair next to me while I read Lidia’s AP history text book. She had loaned it to me the night before. I’d read most of it while Aeva slept and was just finishing up; I’d promised to have it back to her by that afternoon. After a while, I noticed that Aeva had stopped eating, but I tried not to react. I sensed what was coming. She stared at me for a long time.  
  
         “Are you okay, love?” I murmured, turning the page.  
  
         “I want to go to my parents’ house,” she said quietly. “I need to see my dad.” She set her forehead on the table and went silent. I set my book down and stretched a hand across the table to stroke her hair. This trip would hurt her; there was no denying that Jaime was sick. It seemed to be the elephant in the room that the whole family was avoiding whenever we visited. Aeva was going the get the final confirmation she so desperately wanted to never receive. I almost didn’t want to let her go. When she looked up at me again, she had tears in her eyes, but for some reason, she laughed.  
  
         “Oh god, don’t have an aneurism,” she chuckled.  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “Your face,” she grinned, pointing at me.  
  
         “Oh,” I laughed. “Oh, I just…I don’t like what you have to do.”  
  
         “Me neither,” she admitted. “But…it’s time.” I nodded and tucked the book under my arm, going around to help her out of her chair. Her belly had gotten much larger over the past month. In a few moments, we were in our sleek, black SUV, Aeva’s hand clutching mine as she breathed deeply. I kissed her fingers and she squeezed back.  
  
        When we arrived at her parent’s house, she immediately embraced her mother. I left the two women to together, feeling very outside of the moment. When I went into the kitchen, Miguelito and Manuel were standing there looking very confused.  
  
         “When did you get here?” They asked.  
  
         “Just now,” I sighed.  
  
         “That’s weird, because Papá literally _just_ told us that if you two showed up, he wanted to talk to you.”  
  
         “Brilliant. Where is he?”  
  
         “Right here,” Jaime said from behind me. He’d just walked in from the living room. “I’m glad you’re here. Let’s go.”  
  
         “Where are we going?”  
  
         “I’ll give you directions,” he said, walking right past me. “I just need a ride. We’ll take your car.” I looked back at Manuel and Miguelito and they both shook their heads, as if to say they had no idea what was going on either. I followed Jaime back to the front door. He kissed Maria on the cheek and Aeva on the forehead. Then he stepped to the side and stared at me, obviously waiting for me to say my goodbyes as well.  
  
        I gave Maria a hug and she yanked my face down to hers to kiss my cheek. Then I turned to Aeva.  
  
         “Where are you going?” She asked, furrowing her eye brows.  
  
         “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Jaime just needs me to drive him somewhere.”  
  
         “Why you? Why not someone else?”  
  
         “I don’t know.”  
  
         “Can you please ask someone else to take you, Papá?” She asked, looking past me at her father. “I just, I would prefer that Nathan stayed here with me.” She looked up at me again. “Please stay here.”  
  
         “No, Aevita,” Jaime said decisively. “Nathan has to come with me. I need him. Now say good bye, or have him leave without it.”  
  
        I was taken aback by his behavior, but Aeva nodded solemnly.  
  
         “Yes, Papá.” She looked back up at me with huge, sad eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, now fully convinced that I ought to stay with her, but she shook her head.  
  
         “It’s best not to argue,” she explained, and put a hand behind my head. I let her guide me down, pressing my lips to hers. When she pulled away, I stared at her for a moment before leaning back down and kissing her cheek. I whispered so quietly that only she could hear me, “I don’t want to go.”  
  
        She smiled and opened the door for us, muttering under her breath, “Just come back soon. And bring him with you.” I nodded and Jaime and I left together.  
  
        We had been driving for a long time, almost directly north, when Jaime finally spoke again.  
  
         “Why didn’t you want to come with me?” He asked. “Are you scared of me?”  
  
         “No,” I said plainly. “Aeva wanted me to stay there, so that’s where I’d have rather been.”  
  
         “That’s a good answer,” he said, nodding thoughtfully.  
  
         “Would you mind if I asked where we’re going?”  
  
         “Oh, I just have something to take care of,” he sighed. “I’m sick. Did you know that?”  
  
         “Aeva suspected as much. She says you have what your grandfather had.”  
  
         “She told you about Ramón?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “That’s a good sign,” he said, nodding again. Normally, I would have been curious about these cryptic responses, but I was slightly irritated. I wanted to be with Aeva, I was tired of driving, and Jaime was being vague. I just wanted to finish this errand, whatever it was, as quickly as possible.  
  
        After three hours of driving, I noticed the tank was half empty.  
  
         “How much farther is it?” I asked.  
  
         “Oh, about another hour.”  
  
         “We’ll need to stop for gas on the way home then,” I replied curtly.  
  
         “I can cover the fill up.”  
  
         “No, you don’t have to.”  
  
         “You’re loaded, aren’t you?”  
  
        That question took me by surprise.  
  
         “I—what do you mean?”  
  
         “You have a lot of money.”  
  
         “Well…I…yes. I do.”  
  
         “And it doesn’t matter to you at all, does it?”  
  
         “I didn’t really earn any of it, so no.”  
  
         “You didn’t earn it?”  
  
         “No, it’s a sort of…inheritance.”  
  
         “Would it matter to you if you had earned it?”  
  
         “I think it might matter _more_ , yes.”  
  
         “So money isn’t important to you?”  
  
         “To me, no,” I sighed. “I can live off of absolutely no money if need be. But there are other people that need the money I have, and I’m not shy about spreading the wealth.”  
  
         “Like how you bought your house.”  
  
         “I bought Aeva that house. It’s hers, should anything ever happen between us. So is this car. So is my entire fortune, if she’d like it.”  
  
         “And what about the rest of us?”  
  
         “Jaime, if you need money, you didn’t have to make me drive you three hours away from your home to ask for it. However much you need, it’s yours.”  
  
         “No, I didn’t bring you out here to ask for money,” he chuckled. “But thank you for the offer. Maria may need to take you up on it, once I’m gone.”  
  
         “I’ll make sure her bank account stays full.”  
  
         “What happens when your money runs out?”  
  
         “That’s highly unlikely.”  
  
         “But what happens if it does?”  
  
         “Then I’ll go to work. And every penny of it will go to Aeva and your family.”  
  
         “What about the baby?”  
  
         “To him too.”  
  
         “And what will you do?”  
  
         “Aeva wants me to be a doctor,” I said, smiling. “Or a chef. Or an art collector. I’d do all three for her.”  
  
         “Would you ever make Aeva get a job?”  
  
         “Only if she wanted one.”  
  
         “If she didn’t? Mind you, you still have no money in this scenario.”  
  
         “I’d work enough to cover us.”  
  
         “And if she wants to go to school?”  
  
         “She already does,” I said, glancing at his face. He was completely stoic, but this made him smile. “She’s going wherever she pleases. The baby too, when it’s time.”  
  
         “Those are all very good answers.”  
  
         “What do you mean by that?” I asked, finally breaking. “Why is it good?”  
  
         “It’s just reassuring,” he sighed. “Take this next exit.”  
  
        We got off the freeway and took an extremely winding route. Soon, we were away from any form of civilization and were driving through a thick forest. Jaime had me pull off the road after a while, into a large clearing. At the opposite end, there was a cliff overlooking a lake.  
  
         “What did you need to do here?” I asked, getting out of the car.  
  
         “I need to show you,” he replied, walking to the edge of the cliff. “This is where Aeva and I used to go camping. We came here every year.”  
  
         “It’s beautiful.”  
  
         “I know,” he nodded. “Did Aeva tell you about our trips?”  
  
         “Yes. She told me about your shadow puppets and all the stories you told her.”  
  
         “I love her,” he sighed. “So much. I love all my children, but Aeva…she stole my heart, the moment I met her.”  
  
         “Mine too.”  
  
        Jaime smiled and looked up at me.  
  
         “Rubio, I have to say, when you first came here, I didn’t know how to feel. Granted, talking to my brother didn’t help, but still. I didn’t like you being around Aeva. Something about you makes me…nervous.”  
  
         “I know,” I said seriously.  
  
         “You changed my mind, hijo.”  
  
        I just stared at him, taken aback. “Oh…thank you.”  
  
         “Remember when we talked last time?”  
  
         “Of course, every word of it.”  
  
         “I told you to come tell me when Aeva was ready to marry you.”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Is she ready?”  
  
         “I…no. No, she’s not.”  
  
        He sighed heavily.  
  
         “Are you ready?”  
  
        I’d thought quite a lot about it after Jaime had first put the idea into my head. It felt strange to keep it a secret from Aeva, but it might make her uncomfortable if I brought it up. “I am,” I said firmly.  
  
         “But she’s not.”  
  
         “No.”  
  
         “Nathan,” he said, looking straight at me. His eyes were wet. “I’m not going to be here to walk her down the aisle.”  
  
         “Jaime, don’t say that, you don’t know that for certain.”  
  
         “I do though,” he sniffed. “I know I won’t. I don’t have very long. I’m going faster than Ramón did. He was more of a fighter than I am. I won’t be there to walk her down the aisle. Not her, not Frida, not Lidia. None of mis hijas will have me there on their wedding days.”  
  
         “Jaime…”  
  
         “I already talked to Carlos about it. He has promised to be there for my girls when I can’t. But I won’t be there for Aeva. I’ll be gone before she’s ready to say yes to you.” He looked at me, with tears sliding down his cheeks and took my face in his hands. They were rough, like his daughter’s.  
  
         “Nathan, I can’t give my daughter to you on your wedding day. I won’t be here to give you my blessing when it’s time for you to ask, but I want you to know that you have it. There is no one in this world that I would rather see with my baby for the rest of her life, no one else I would rather see her raise my grandchildren with, than you. As far as I’m concerned, tú eres mi hijo.”  
  
         “I…thank you, Jaime,” I gasped. “I’m…honored.”  
  
         “You just love her, okay? You love her and you take care of her no matter what, okay?”  
  
         “I will,” I promised. “I swear to you, I will.”  
  
        He smiled and pulled me to him, wrapping me in his arms. It would have been a very firm hug, had it been given to anyone else. When he finally released me, he’d stopped crying and was drying his eyes.  
  
         “If I had wanted money,” he said, sniffing loudly, “I would have taken you out to dinner. But when a man knows he’s going to cry, well, that’s when he drives four hours away.”  
  
         “Duly noted,” I laughed as we walked back to the car.  
  
         “And if you’re taking notes, remember this one: that girl had better get a meteor of a rock on her finger, you hear?”  
  
         “I don’t know if she’ll wear that, Jaime.”  
  
         “Give her the option. And you let her get whatever dress she wants.”  
  
         “Of course.”  
  
         “Even if it makes her look fat, if she wants it, you let her have it.”  
  
         “Will do.”  
  
         “Okay, maybe don’t let her look fat, because then she won’t like the pictures, but don’t you dare let her know she can’t have that dress just because it makes her look fat, okay?”  
  
         “I would never.”  
  
         “That’s a good answer,” he laughed, patting me on the cheek and finally smiling like his old self again.  
  



	21. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go well and then go poorly.

###  _Aeva_

         Papá had taken Nathan somewhere and I didn’t know if that would make what I had to do easier or harder. I didn’t like crying in front of Nathan and I’d already been doing far too much of it. I also wasn’t sure if I would be ready to face my father once Mamá confirmed what I already knew. On the other hand, what if I didn’t handle the news as well as I was hoping to? Nathan had promised to hold me together and this seemed dangerously like falling-apart-territory.

         “Hija,” Mamá said gently, patting my hand. We were sitting in the dining room. It was just me, her, and all the mismatched chairs around the table. “Hija, what has you so worried, hm?”

         “You already know,” I said quietly, staring down at the scratched, stained surface of our table. Papá had made it and we had used it very well. “I’ve _seen_ him, Mamá. Is it happening?”

         “Sí.”

        The word hit me in my chest like a battering ram. It shouldn’t have knocked the air out of me the way it did, but I was struggling to breathe all the same. Papá was dying.

         “Does everyone else know?” I asked. “Am I the last?”

         “No,” she sighed. “The jovenes don’t know. They don’t need to worry about that; they’ll light their candles once he passes, just like you did for Ramón. You’re the last of your siblings to ask about it, but I don’t think you were the last to know at all.”

        She was right about that. Technically, Nathan had been the first to know. He had smelled the change in Papá’s blood days before I saw Papá start slowing down. I was certain, though, that among Manuel, Frida, Lidia and I, I had been the first to see it. They didn’t ever seem to watch him as closely as I did.

         “How long?”

         “He doesn’t want to talk about that.”

         “Mamá,” I said, finally looking up at her. There was no pleading in my tone; this was a demand. “How long?”

        She stared at me, jaw tight. “There’s no…there’s no way to tell. Ramón hung on for almost a year. But probably not longer than that.”

        Less than a year.

         “Will he meet the baby?”

         “Oh, oh, hija,” she said, taking my hand and squeezing it in hers. “Oh, yes. Oh, he will.”

        Less than a year, but he would know his grandson. I nodded. It felt like I was agreeing to terms.

         “But this is waiting, Estrella,” she reminded me, squeezing my fingers again. “You can’t just sit around and wait for it to happen. It will come whenever it is supposed to no matter what we do. So from now until then, we have to keep living, okay?”

         “I thought living made it go faster.”

         “Living fills the time too. You can leave it empty, if you want, and keep that as how you remember it. Or you can fill it, with him. Don’t…don’t act like he’s already gone, hija. He’s dying, but he’s not dead yet.”

        I nodded again. More terms.

         “I know you think…you think a little differently about death, because you grew up on this side of the border, but even once he dies…he won’t be gone.”

        Mamá, ever the Oaxacan woman, believed in death the same way the viejos did. That it wasn’t and ending, just a separation. I wasn’t sure where I stood on the matter.

        We stayed at the table for a while longer, but we didn’t say anything else. We just held hands and breathed, both of us equally determined not to cry. Eventually, we got up and went to the living room where most of the noise in the house was coming from. Almost everyone was in there and Chuy was crying because Miguelito had pulled the “I’m bigger than you” card to out vote him on our tv selection. Rather than _The Backyardigans_ , it was some action film. Lupe was staring at the screen with such fascination that she didn’t even notice when her pacifier fell out of her mouth. Abuela was knitting and Abuelo was snoring gently on the sofa beside her. They were all living, just like Mamá had said. She was right; this was better than silently sitting in the dining room and waiting for the worst. We got through the rest of the action movie and its two sequels before Nathan and Papá finally returned; they came back in the middle of dinner.

         “Jaime!” Carlos shouted, grinning at his brother. His seat gave him the best view of the entrance to the kitchen. “We thought you two had gotten lost!”

         “No, no,” Papá laughed. “We did just fine.” He kissed Mamá and took his place at the table while Nathan made his way around the edge of the room to his usual place beside me. Manuel and Miguel both stuck their hands up behind themselves to grasp his hand in greeting. None of my family shied away from touching him; they were all like me. We all ran a little too hot, so everyone’s hands felt cold to us. Nathan’s were nice to the touch if you were already burning up.

        When he finally squeezed all the way around the table to his chair, he slipped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my cheek. I paused when I also felt the lingering coolness from his lips on my mouth and neck. I looked over at him and he winked. Leave it to Nathan to use his super speed to steal kisses at the dinner table.

        Manuel had launched into another story about the fire department and had the table’s attention. Nathan used the distraction to nuzzle into my hair and lace his fingers through mine under the table; his silent greetings were the only good part about his occasional absences.

         “Hey Nathan,” Lidia said, eyeing him up. She was the only other person not watching our brother flail his arms around while he acted his story out.

         “Yes?” He said, sitting straight and releasing my hand. His other arm stayed securely around my shoulders, but I was still a little upset at the interruption of his adoration.

         “Did you and Papá take water on your drive?”

         “We didn’t.”

         “Then you must be…thirsty,” she said, grinning and sliding her glass of ice water toward him. She was the only person that seemed determined to keep pressing the issue. He glanced around the table to check that all eyes were still firmly fixed on Manuel before he snatched up the glass and drained it completely. Lidia was frowning when he set it down and I laughed at the expression on her face.

         “Did he ruin another theory?” I whispered.

         “Well, I don’t know,” she shrugged. “All living things need water to survive, so I thought if he couldn’t drink water, then…”

         “I need water,” he said. “I just get it from my food.”

        She crossed her arms and stared down at her plate hissing, “But what do you _eat_?” I was a little disappointed in her, really. She was a smart girl; she had above and beyond the best grades between the four of us and she still hadn’t figured Nathan out. I had it out of him within twenty minutes of being in his apartment. It was for the best though, and I knew that.

        After dinner, Nathan and I decided to go back to our house. I didn’t want to start sleeping at my parent’s place again; that felt too much like hovering. I was putting my trust in Mamá; Papá still had a decent amount of time. He wasn’t going anywhere. I was repeating that to myself as I brushed my teeth. Nathan walked past our bathroom and I heard him open the door to the other one; curious about what he was doing, I spit out my toothpaste and followed him. He was standing in front of the open toilet, arm covering his mouth, as he coughed for all his worth.

         “Woah,” I said, making him look at me. “Are you sick? Can you _get_ sick?” He shook his head and kept coughing. His stomach was clenching hard with each exhale and it sounded like he was trying to clear something out of his throat until finally, he bent over and a stream of water poured out of his mouth. He flushed the toilet and wiped his lips with a wash cloth.

         “Sorry you saw that. It’s not pleasant.”

         “Was that the water Lidia gave you at dinner?”

        He nodded, rubbing his stomach with one hand and his throat with the other. It must have been an uncomfortable process.

         “Does it hurt to vomit like that? Because of the venom?”

         “No,” he said, smiling. “Venom won’t hurt me, just you. Pulling food up like that isn’t painful, it’s just unpleasant. I don’t have stomach acid or anything like that to make it hurt.”

         “No stomach acid? Then how do you digest blood?”

         “You ask icky questions,” he laughed, putting his arms around me and walking me backward into our room. “Do you really want to be thinking about the vampiric digestive tract before bed? Are you looking forward to those dreams?”

         “I just want to know how you work!” I giggled as he lifted me onto the bed and laid me down, crawling up as well. He hovered over me on all fours, staring down at my face for a moment before he sighed, kissed my head, and rolled over onto his back. “Does this mean you’ll tell me?”

         “I always tell you,” he muttered. “Even when I don’t like telling you, I tell you. I just let you watch me vomit; I’m not allowed to have secrets anymore.”

         “Damn straight.”

        He laughed again and rolled his eyes, turning his head to face the ceiling. “What did you want to know?”

         “How do you digest blood?”

         “Short answer is, we don’t.”

         “Long answer is…?”

        He rubbed his hands over his face and made a throaty, thinking noise. “Umm…I mean there’s a pretty strong theory on it. It’s based off the few things we know for certain about how our bodies work.” He started listing things on his fingers. “We know we’re strongest when we’re newborns. We know we have an intense craving specifically for blood. We know human blood tastes better to us than animal blood. We know our eyes change color based on how much blood is in our systems. We know we’re not using our digestive tract, because we don’t produce waste.”

        He switched hands. “We know the change happens when venom enters our systems. We know every single one of our cells changes when we do. We know that all of our bodily fluids have been replaced with venom.”

         “So what does all that add up to?”

         “Venom is made from blood,” he said, turning to look at me. “We don’t digest it, we transmute it.”

         “Okay, so you turn blood into venom and that’s why you need it. But not all blood is created equal?”

         “No,” he said, smiling again. “The blood that makes our venom the most potent—and by extension, makes us the strongest—is our own. That’s what makes a Newborn so powerful; they’re burning off all of the blood left in their systems from before they were changed. The next best thing to your own blood is another human’s; after that is animal blood.”

         “Do you think that if a vampire killed their human family, it would make them stronger than if it were just another random person’s blood?”

         “Probably.”

         “And what about if a person donated their blood for a long time, turned into a vampire, and then drank _that_. Would they stay super strong for a longer time?”

         “I don’t know!” He groaned, rolling over to put and arm around me. “Probably. It sounds right, at least, but not many people have that much forethought before becoming a vampire. People don’t exactly volunteer.”

         “Why not?”

         “Not many vampires have the restraint required to change someone. Usually if one of us tries, we just kill the human. Most of the time, vampires are turned by accident; they were supposed to be a meal, but someone was interrupted or just sloppy about it.”

         “What’s it like to be turned?”

        A shadow passed over his face and he looked down. “It hurts,” he said quietly. “Like being burned alive from the inside out.” I didn’t like his expression: the furrow between his eyebrows and the tightness of his mouth. I didn’t like whatever it was that he was remembering and I regretted pulling it up into his mind.

         “Sorry,” I whispered. Right away, his honey eyes looked back up at me and his beautiful smile leapt back onto his face, the dimple on his cheek hidden in the pillow.

         “You don’t have to apologize,” he said, sliding closer and touching his head to mine. “Viktor did it. I’ll guilt him about it if I need to.”

         “If you say so.”

        We settled in for bed and I had to adjust to my new sleeping position. Generally, I preferred to sleep pressed to Nathan’s side, my head on his shoulder, my chest against his body, and my leg tossed over his for good measure. He would drape his arm down my back and hold me to him as I slept; it was the most extravagantly cold experience of my life and I adored the feeling of it. But my ever enlarging belly had long since made it too uncomfortable for me to manage. Now, we slept so that I faced away from him and he pressed his chest against me, curling his body so that the fronts of his legs pressed to the backs of mine. It was nice to have his arms around me, but I still preferred to be the other way around when every breath smelled like him. _Not too much longer_ , I reminded myself.

        The baby moved and I set my hands against my belly. Nathan’s hands followed and we reveled in the strange, ethereal pressure against our palms being doled out by the mysterious third occupant of our bed. I felt bad that the baby had ceased to be anything more than a time marker for me. _After the baby_ this would happen. We can’t let that happen _before the baby_. With so much going on in my immediate future, it was hard to focus on the more long term commitment that my little boy would be. I had one lifelong companion behind me and another in front, still waiting for his introductions. Viktor wasn’t going anywhere any time soon either, so he was a third. I already had the entirety of my family. There were so many people that I had already committed my life to. Each one I thought of felt like a tether, tying me to where I was. It felt like growing roots.

        I dreamt that night of walking through the old campsite clearing. I walked to the center of the space and stuffed my fingers deep in the ground and I felt them stretch and expand in a hundred different directions. When I looked up, Nathan was across from me with a grin on his face, his hands buried up to his wrists. I looked all around myself and everyone was there, even Viktor, looking contentedly at the ground while their fingers reached further and further down into the soil. My father walked between us, hand clasped behind his back, like he was inspecting his crops. He set his hand on my head as he passed, humming. It was so peaceful; it was a good omen. Papá would be around to watch us grow.

        When I woke up the next morning, I felt confident in my little premonition. I was also reflecting back on that campsite and all the memories I’d had there; I knew what I wanted to spend my day doing well before we pulled into the driveway. Once we were inside I turned to Nathan.

         “I’m going to spend the day with my dad, okay? Can you occupy yourself, or would you like to go somewhere else?”

         “I’ll find something to do,” he laughed, brushing his fingers against my cheek. “I’m glad to see you a little more optimistic.”

         “Hija,” Papá’s voice said. He sounded healthy. I turned around to see him grinning at me from the entrance to the kitchen. “Did you just get here?”

         “Yeah,” I replied. “And I have a question for you.”

         “Sí, Estrella?”

         “Do you want to whittle?”

         “Do I want to—of course I do!” He laughed. “We should sit on the porch; it’s going to snow soon. It might be our last day out there where we won’t need bigger coats. Just let me go get my knives. Maria won’t let us use the kitchen ones, so I have to keep them separate. They’re upstairs.”

         “You go pick a spot outside,” I told him, “I’ll go up and find them. Are they in your room?”

         “Si, si, en una caja,” he said, smiling. “Under the little soap sculpture you made me. It’s on the night stand.”

         “I’ll be right out.”

        He smiled and walked away toward the back of the house.

         “You’re going to _whittle_ ,” Nathan whispered, sounding amused. I laughed at him before hauling myself up the stairs to Mamá and Papá’s room. I followed Papá’s instructions and immediately saw the little white sculpture on his bedside table. I plucked it up off the simple wood box it sat on and turned it over in my hands. It had dried out considerably, which made sense; the little thing was almost twelve years old. It wasn’t bad workmanship for having been done by a, eight year old with a bar of Ivory soap. The little angel had its wings partly folded and its arms out wide, looking up. I set it down and smiled at it before heading back downstairs and out onto the little deck in the back. Papá was seated in a folding chair with a blanket over his legs. He’d set up an identical chair next to his own just for me.

         “Hey,” I said, plopping his box in his lap and kissing his cheek.

         “Hola, hijita,” he said, smiling as I took my seat. There were two funny shaped pine logs at his feet. “I picked the strangest ones out of the woodpile,” he explained. “I mean, they’re no copal branches, but they should do for some alebrijes, no?”

         “They’ll be perfect,” I grinned, picking one up. He wanted to make the signature sculptures of Oaxaca. Alebrijes were fanciful, brightly colored animals made by following the natural shape of a piece of wood. Normally, they were made from the wood of the short, twisty copal tree, but he was right. Pine would do. He handed me a knife from his box and we both went happily to work.

         “So Nathan won’t come out and enjoy the day with us, hm?” He asked after an hour or so.

         “No, it’s too bright,” I replied, struggling with a particularly dense knot.

         “It’s terrible that he misses seeing you in the sun,” he sighed. “That’s how our skin looks best.” He stuck his arm out and I rolled up my sleeve to put mine next to it, comparing. He was darker than I was; I had Mamá’s fairer coloring. His arm, under the thick black hair, was always the same reddish brown, like Abuela’s mole sauce.

         “You win,” I laughed, shoving him gently.

         “I always win.” He chuckled softly to himself and returned to his work. “Nathan’s really pale.”

         “He is,” I agreed.

         “Is that why he won’t come out? Can you see through him, like Holly in winter? Can you see his veins or something?”

         “Or something.”

        We peeked at each other out of the corner of our eyes and we both laughed. When I looked forward, I half expected to be looking out over a cliff at a lake below. It felt just like those old trips with him; it felt like childhood sitting by his side.

        We stayed outside for most of the day making our little carvings; we even took our lunch out onto the deck to keep working. We didn’t drop our knives back in the box until the sky had started to dim. Papá was right; I could feel a genuine winter chill as the sun shifted. This would be one of our last nice autumn days. Like him, I expected snow soon.

         “Shall we go in, hija?” He asked, sighing contentedly. He was holding up the alligator he’d made, twirling it by its tail. Its mouth was open and he’d made sure to make plenty of tiny teeth.

         “Yeah, I’m done too.” I showed him my armadillo and he smiled.

         “Will you paint them for us?”

         “I will,” I grinned, taking his alligator. “I’ll take them back to my studio and paint them once they’ve dried out.”

        He and I both struggled to our feet, each one laughing at the other while we strained. He brushed the little wood chunks from my belly where I couldn’t see them and we walked back into the house together while he stowed his knives back in their case. I walked into the kitchen hoping there was juice in the fridge. I found Nathan and Lidia sitting at the dining room table; she had her books out, but they’d been shoved aside and the pair of them were positioned across from each other, elbows resting on the wood and heads propped on hands.

         “I hate hunting with my dad,” Nathan said. Lidia narrowed her eyes. “My favorite color is green. I’ve never owned a pet.”

         “Hmmm,” she said, poking out her lower lip. “The…second one.”

         “It’s the third one.”

         “Joder!” She shouted, slapping her hands on the table.

         “Lidia, watch your mouth,” I laughed, getting their attention. Well, getting hers; I was certain that Nathan had already known I was there.

         “Whatever, Aeva,” she said, waving her at me dismissively before returning to her staring-at-Nathan position. “Okay, my turn again.”

         “Give me your toughest ones.”

        She narrowed her eyes again kept all the muscles in her face tight. “I like cats better than dogs. I hear better out of my left ear than my right ear. My favorite color is purple.”

        Nathan smiled right away and said, “Last one.”

         “Every time!”

        I laughed, completely incredulous. “Nathan!” He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

         “She wanted to play; I can’t help it if she picked a game I’m good at.”

        He was using his gift; he couldn’t be lied to. Lidia had no way of knowing just how rigged her game of two truths and a lie was. He was almost three centuries old and still an absolute child. However, I did find myself storing the information that his favorite color was green. I would have to ask him to be more specific about the shade.

         “I don’t want to play this anymore,” Lidia grumbled. “I’ll think of something else later. What about slaps? I bet my reactions are faster than yours.”

         “I bet they’re not,” he laughed, getting out of his seat. “Is all of this ready to hand in?”

         “Yeah, thank you for helping again,” she said, gathering up her homework.

        He smiled at her one more time before coming over to me and taking one of the carvings out of my hands. “What are these?”

         “They’re alebrijes,” I said, sipping at my lemonade. “Well, they will be. I still have to paint them. Papá doesn’t like doing that. He’s a whittler at heart.”

         “Are you two finished for the day then?”

         “Yeah, I just wanted to go stick those in my room.” I emptied my glass and went to the stairs, Nathan right behind me. As we walked, a thought occurred to me.

         “Hey, when someone lies to you, you see the truth right? It’s not like…you _only_ know it’s not true?”

         “Yep,” he said, nodding. “But it _is_ faulty. If you really believed something, even if it was wrong, and then you told me, I wouldn’t know the difference. It’s only if you _know_ you’re lying, because that’s a choice. It’s part of your story, so I can see it.”

         “So, what would happen if I lied to you on purpose?”

         “If you lied on purpose? Why would you lie on purpose?”

         “To keep a secret,” I said, pushing open my door and tossing the carvings on my bed. “Like, if someone was listening and I didn’t want them to know the truth, but I wanted you to know.”

         “You have a sneaky brain,” he murmured, coming closer and kissing my temple. “That’s what Viktor used to do.”

         “Really? So I’m late to the game with my brilliant idea.”

         “He had a couple years’ head start,” he laughed. “But yes, he did it when we were with the Volturi. He’s a secretive person. I mean, he’s a sneak; he’s always been a sneak. That’s why he can do what he does in the first place.”

         “Can I try it out?”

         “Can you try lying to me?”

         “Yeah.”

         “Alright,” he sighed, setting his arms loosely around me. He didn’t like this game, but he didn’t know how I intended to play it yet.

         “My favorite color is red.”

         “It’s powder blue,” he corrected, smiling a little.

         “Frida is my favorite sibling.”

         “It’s Manuel. That’s bad!” He was laughing now. “You can’t have favorite siblings.”

         “It’s too late for that. Okay, one more.”

         “One more,” he agreed.

         “I think you’re just _hideous_.” I held my breath, not at all sure of what he would hear. His eyebrows went up and a smile crept across his face.

         “Oh dear,” he chuckled, bending down to press his lips to my neck. “That was very nice… and then it took a turn. Someone so sweet shouldn’t have thoughts like that.” I had hoped he would only hear how rapturously beautiful I thought he was, but apparently my secret-self had a dirtier mind than I’d been counting on. I might have been embarrassed if it weren’t for the delicious distraction being provided as his mouth moved along my jaw toward my lips. Just before he reached them, we were interrupted.

         “Nathan!” Mamá called, her voice carrying up from the kitchen. “Ven aquí. I need you!” He was being called to help prepare dinner with her.

         “Just when it was getting good,” I groaned, dropping my head against his chest. He laughed and lifted my head back up to his, pressing his lips gently to mine. I sighed into the blissful cold of it. He pulled away and stared down at me with his sweet, amber eyes.

         “You’re the one who takes me home at night,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth turned up. “Let your mother borrow me to chop some vegetables, hm?”

         “Fine, you can go.” He kissed me again, soft and slow, before he left. _I surely do get to take him home at night_ , I thought to myself, rubbing my round belly, _but I can’t take full advantage of that quite yet_. That was something to ask about later; another thing could happen _after the baby_.

        I started rooting around in the things I’d left behind in my room, searching for something to carry the carvings home in. I found a small collection of wadded up plastic bags in a shelf on my nightstand. I grabbed hold of one and yanked it free, jettisoning the entire contents of the shelf across the floor. Glass beads, colored pencils, and a camera I’d gotten for my 13th birthday bounced off the rug and skittered on the hardwood. I rolled my eyes and started stuffing all of it back into where it had come from; that was a mess I could deal with later. I was about to ram the camera back in its old resting place when I changed my mind, tossing it in the bag with the armadillo and the alligator. I decided I would get the film developed and see what 13 year old Aeva had been looking at.

         Nathan and I went home again after dinner and I threw the camera on my drawing table and set the carvings on the window sill of my studio where the sun would bake them dry. I shut the door behind myself and promptly forgot about all three for two months. Certainly, I went back in the studio to work on something or other, but I never got around to actually painting the little animals. Life shifted its focus from Papá to my impending due date. I had one more month to go and Mamá, Frida, and Holly had taken it upon themselves to stock every shelf and drawer of the nursery with clothes and toys for the baby. Abuela had already knitted me several receiving blankets, so that I would have plenty of options for the big day. Doña Luisa had crocheted a series of wash cloths, which were either a very thoughtful gift, or she was just confused about what was happening. It felt wonderful to have the entire family focused on _life_ again.

        One day, after lunch, Frida decided she was going to do another round of baby shopping. She asked if I wanted to tag along and I immediately said yes; Frida only asked me to accompany her somewhere when she had secrets to tell.

         “Can I come?” Lidia asked, looking bright.

         “No,” Frida scoffed. “You won’t fit in the car after the shopping’s done. I’m already taking the living planet, here.”

        Lidia rolled her eyes and sat down on the sofa in a huff. Papá laughed at her and pulled her to his side. He waved us off and, after kissing Nathan goodbye, we were free. She pulled out of our neighborhood and I looked over at her.

         “So, what do you have to tell me?”

         “ _I_ don’t have anything,” she said, grinning mischievously at me. “I am going to pump you for information.”

         “No, you tricked me!” I groaned. The baby kicked and I knew he was similarly offended. She drove us to the mall and I got out, following her into a department store. “What do you want to know?” I grumbled.

         “I want to know about you and Nathan, tonta,” she laughed. “I want to know how things are going. Like, it looks like they’re good, but you can’t tell from the outside, you know?”

         “Things are good.”

         “You are _blushing_.”

         “They’re very good!” I laughed. “Was there anything specific you were wondering about?”

         “Well tell me something good. Does he sleep naked? Is he hung?”

         “Frida!”

         “Ay, no need to yell,” she said, putting her hands up in mock surrender. “I just want you to talk about him a little. You two are together all the time and I know he has his weird secrets, but I just want to check in on my little sister. Is that such a bad thing?”

        She clearly had an ulterior motive, but I allowed her to nose into my life a little. Once she knew the raunchier topics were off limits, she mostly asked mundane questions, like did he cook, did he like the same music as me, was he looking forward to the baby? It took hours of wandering stores before she finally got to what she really wanted to know.

         “This is cute,” she said, lifting a tuxedo onesie off a rack. “Para un hijo, no?”

         “That’s adorable.”

         “Maybe the baby could wear it to a special event,” she mused. “Like…your wedding?”

         “Frida…”

         “When are you two getting married?” She demanded. “You _are_ going to get married, right?”

         “I don’t know,” I laughed. “We don’t talk about it. We’re a little more focused on something else that’s happening soon.” I patted my giant belly for emphasis and she rolled her eyes.

         “Whatever. I’m going to propose to him _for_ you pretty soon.”

         “Don’t do that! Don’t freak him out.”

         “Would he get freaked out if I just started dropping hints to him? What’s your ring size; I’ll bring it up in conversation.”

         “You are not allowed to bully Nathan into marrying me,” I laughed. “Leave him alone. We’ll get to it when we get to it. He’s not going anywhere, I can promise you that. Besides, I don’t even _know_ my ring size.”

         “Maybe I’ll just sign him up for a dancing class then, hm?” She said, holding the onesie against her like a partner and starting to sway. “Just so he’s ready for your reception when you _finally_ get around to nailing him down. Then, after that, you can tell me if he’s hung. You can’t avoid that one forever.”

        I was going to say something rude to her, but my phone started buzzing. I answered it, swatting at Frida while she twirled away. It was Mamá; I guess we had been gone longer than expected. We were probably late for dinner.

         “Hola, Mamá,” I said, putting it to my ear. “Lo siento que—“ She was crying. No, crying wasn’t the right word for the sound she was making; she was wailing. She was in hysterics.

         “Mamá!” I shouted, heart rate increasing. “Mamá what’s wrong? What’s happening?” Frida turned around. She ran to me when she saw my face and pressed her head to mine so we could both listen. “Mamá, you have to tell us,” I said, trying to calm her down. “Frida’s right here with me. Tell us what’s going on.”

         “I don’t know,” she gasped between sobs. “I d-don’t know, hijas. I w-was just…cooking…a-and…”

        Frida and I looked at each other. She clenched her jaw and took my hand.

         “N-Nathan was with m-me and he…he heard something…and then…all of a sudden, he was gone…a-and…”

        Nathan had run; he never ran in front of my family. “Go on, Mamá,” I pushed.

         “He was…upstairs. He told me to c-call an…an…ambulance…” She dissolved into sobs again. It sounded like she was being ripped in half. Frida and I listened to our mother cry, clutching each other’s hands so hard our fingers were white. After a minute or so, we heard someone take the phone from her.

         “Go on, Mamá,” we heard our brother say, sounding muffled. “Go over there with abuela; go sit down, I’ll do this.” I took a ragged breath and realized I was already on the edge of tears. We heard Manuel put the phone to his ear and sigh heavily. “Hola, hermanas,” he said. He sounded beyond exhausted.

         “Manuel…what happened?”

         “Papá…he…he’s gone.” I slapped a hand over my mouth so I didn’t scream in the store; Frida latched her arms around me, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.

         “He was upstairs taking a nap and Nathan heard him start choking,” Manuel continued. He was in a hospital; we could hear machines behind him. “I don’t know how, but he heard it. Papá had been asleep and he was coughing and then…it happened, just like Ramón. Nathan was the first one there; he was yelling at Mamá to call 911. I went into the room with him to help and he was holding Papá up and…and…blood was just coming out of his mouth. Papá’s eyes were so scared…I just…I froze. I couldn’t even help. Nathan had blood all over him...and I just…” His breathing was shaky; he was crying too.

        Nathan had been covered in blood. That was dangerous. I had to ask my next question and it took everything in me to control myself enough to get it out. “D-did…Nathan…”

         “No, no,” Manuel said instantly, not knowing at all what I was going to ask. “No, he didn’t faint or nothing. He handed Papá off the EMTs. Mamá rode in the ambulance. Me and Nate drove everyone else here. We were going to call you two to come but…Papá…he…he went fast. There wasn’t time. They’re moving him now…to the morgue.”

         “We’re coming,” Frida said, locking eyes with me. I nodded and we were running for the door before we’d hung up. She was rushing to be with our family, and so was I, but I was also rushing to protect them; I couldn’t be sure of the state that Nathan would be in when we got there. He was already planning to hunt later that night while I slept; he was in no state to have handled what happened to Papá.

        Frida and I rushed into the hospital and found our family immediately. They were crowded into a waiting room, crying together. Doña Luisa was praying over the beads of the rosary and Miguelito was holding my mother to his chest. Manuel had Lidia under one arm and Mercedes under the other. Frida’s kids were in Carlos’s lap while he held hands with Abuelo. Abuela had her hand on Nathan’s arm as she wept, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief. He was staring straight at the floor, utterly unmoving. His complete stillness was unnerving. No one was really seeing him though, and that was for the best; he looked almost inhuman. His eyes were deepest black, the shadowy bruises beneath them more prominent than I had ever seen them. I left Frida’s side and went to him immediately.

         “Come on,” I said, yanking on one of his hands. He looked up slowly and I realized he was holding his breath. “Come _on_ ,” I repeated, pulling harder. He allowed me to get him up and lead him away from the group.

         “You go,” I told him, setting a hand on either side of his face. “Go hunt; go eat, Nathan.”

        He nodded almost imperceptibly and, out of habit, I started to pull him down for a kiss. As he got closer to me, I heard him growling. I recoiled immediately, scared by the noise and he stood up straight once more.

         “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clenching his eyes shut.

         “Just go. Go eat.”

        He was gone instantly and I was left, breathing hard with my heart racing. I realized then that I had started to believe the charade that he and I put on for my family. With his gentle touches and his human habits, I had gotten too relaxed. I had forgotten that Nathan _wasn’t_ human; he was, as he’d phrased it, a different animal. He was a vampire and that meant that he was dangerous and somehow I’d forgotten; I’d also almost just gotten myself bit. I was still breathing hard when Manuel noticed me.

         “Aevita?” He asked. I stumbled and had to lean on the wall for support. “Aevita!” He was on his feet, running to me. I couldn’t stop gasping for air. Something was wrong.


	22. Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go poorly, then go well.

###  _Nathan_

        I had heard the coughing; I’d been listening to Jaime’s every move, keeping an eye on him as had become my habit. I wasn’t concerned until that second noise, the quieter one, happened. It was a soft tearing sound and then suddenly, Jaime’s coughs were wet and thick. He was choking. I sprinted through the house at top speed, certain that no one would have been able to see me. I caught Jaime just as he stumbled from his bed. He looked at me with wide, terrified eyes and his mouth hung open in a silent scream, blood welling in the back of his throat. I tipped him forward and it dripped over his lips and down his chin, spilling down his chest and across my arms. I held my breath instinctively; I didn’t drink human blood, but this display was causing viciously sharp, hot claws to tear their way down my throat. I needed to alert someone of what was happening, though. I tore my eyes away from the man in my arms and took a sharp, scorching inhale, bellowing back into the hall, “Maria, call 911! We need an ambulance!”  
  
        I heard sounds of general confusion and alarm from below but also, mercifully, the sound of someone dialing the phone. Someone was thundering up the stairs as I turned back to Jaime. He coughed suddenly and powerfully and a spray of blood came out of his mouth; it coated my shoulder and my chin. I could feel it, hot and thick, on my lips but I kept them firmly clamped shut. I was resolute in my control; I would not harm him. But I wouldn’t risk speaking again for fear of having his blood drip into my mouth. Instead, I hoisted him up and helped him bend at the waist; thankfully, after a few more coughs, his airway seemed to clear.  
  
         “N-nathan…” I looked over my shoulders to see Manuel frozen in the doorway. The horror on his face matched the scene before him; he stood there, hand never quite reaching far enough to cover his mouth, and stared in shock. He wasn’t going to help me. I growled in frustration and turned away, keeping my focus on Jaime until the EMTs arrived. I helped place him onto a stretcher as someone rubbed my face and neck clean; the cloth he was using reeked of rubbing alcohol.  
  
         “You’re kind of clammy,” the man—Evan Barkley, though he didn’t introduce himself—said, now wiping down my arms. “Makes sense. That was scary. How are you doing now?”  
  
        I didn’t respond to him. I wasn’t breathing; I hadn’t inhaled once since calling for help. I was focusing on moving my chest in a convincing way and not slaughtering the aid worker as he rubbed me down. I did not hunt humans as a kindness to my conscience, but I had not hunted recently and had been left covered in blood for twenty minutes; my devotion to my conscience was running thin. I needed to leave.  
  
         “Here, man,” Manuel said, tossing me a shirt. I nodded and went into the bathroom to change. I didn’t bother removing my old shirt, I just ripped it off and put the new one on. I walked back out, ready to excuse myself, when Manuel tossed me a set of keys.  
  
         “Mamá rode with the ambulance. I’m taking Holly, Mercedes, and the viejos in my van. You’ve got to take Frida’s little ones. Lidia will help you. Miguel and Carlos are meeting us there.”  
  
        I wanted to tell him no, but Lidia was standing in the doorway with Lupe on one hip and Chuy by her side. I would drive them to the hospital and then leave.  
  
        I started toward the door and Lidia made a face. “Um…jacket?” She asked.  
  
        I did not have time to play dress up with humans, but I pulled my coat on all the same. The less I argued, the sooner I could separate from them. We all got into the cars and hurried to catch up with the ambulance. When we parked, I was about to tell Lidia she needed to take the kids in by herself but she yanked Chuy out of his car seat and thrust him into my arms.  
  
         “No, no, I—“  
  
         “He can’t walk fast enough,” she said, taking Lupe. “We have to go.” She took off jogging, following the rest of her family and I stayed on her heels. The burning, clawing thirst was creeping down my throat and filling my chest as Chuy wrapped his arms around my neck to hold him steady. _You are not going to kill this child_ , I swore to myself. I kept chanting it in my head as we entered the hospital and found the right ward. There was a doctor with a clip board waiting for us.  
  
         “I need to speak to the man who found him,” he said.  
  
         _Please, no_ , I prayed. _I need to leave_.  
  
        Instead, I stayed and answered the same questions the EMTs had already asked. I managed to pass Chuy off to someone else, but things were going too quickly for me to slip away. We were barely there for ten minutes when Jaime was pronounced dead. The entire family started to cry; my eyes were pricking too, but the human emotion of grief was at odds with the vicious, animal urge to feed. Warm hands were clutching mine, arms were wrapped around me, and I was vaguely aware of someone calling Aeva.  
  
         “I need to go,” I muttered, over and over again, trying to get them off of me.  
  
         “No, stay, hijo,” Maria had pleaded. “Aeva’s almost here. She’s on her way.”  
  
        I couldn’t be around Aeva. I couldn’t be around her family. I needed to _leave_. When it became clear that escape was not an option, I focused all of my attention on not moving my body; if I wasn’t moving at all, I couldn’t make a _wrong_ move. I settled into a chair and held my breath. I was not blending in well; I was not bothering to shift my weight or fidget like I should have. Aeva’s grandmother was holding onto my arm and I was doing my best to ignore the contact; I didn’t want to risk shaking her off. I wasn’t going to let myself move until I could run. Suddenly, a hand was in mine, tugging.  
  
         “Come on.”  
  
        I looked up and Aeva was staring down at me, a stern expression on her face. “Come _on_ ,” she repeated, putting her weight behind her pull. She knew the signs, she knew what was happening to me. She was giving me an out, leading me away from the group.  
  
        She held my face in her hands, keeping my focus on her. “You go. Go hunt; go eat, Nathan.”  
  
        I gave a slight nod and then she was pulling me to her. Both parts of me reacted instinctively: my rational self was leaning toward her; my animal self was growling, getting ready to strike. When she heard the sound, she let go and stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear.  
  
        I had scared her; I needed to explain myself. But the longer I stayed, the more likely it was that I would hurt her. I used the last of the air in my lungs to say, “I’m sorry.”  
  
         “Just go,” she whispered. “Go eat.”  
  
        I was off running as soon as the words were out of her mouth. I would apologize; I would make it up to her. But not now.  
  
        I was streaking past humans on all sides as I fled the city; I was moving too quickly for them to see me. Everything in my body was shouting at me to breathe in. It went against my instincts to run without being able to smell my prey. But I knew as soon as I finally filled my nose with air, I would start hunting. I needed to be far away from humans before I could let that happen. I ran, unsure of where I was headed until I arrived: the clearing.  
  
        I breathed deeply and lost myself. I was operating purely on instinct as I tracked my meal. Bears would have been preferable, but they had already gone into hibernation. I could hear coyotes stalking through the trees. They were small, but there were plenty, and I sought them out mercilessly. I didn’t often take down predators; I tended to stick to deer and elk, but the coyotes certainly tasted better. I felt less in control of myself when I hunted carnivores; perhaps I simply saw too much of myself in my food. Once sated, I walked back to the clearing. Miraculously, I had not dribbled blood down myself, though I was fairly coated in fur. I brushed it off as I walked, sucking in deep breaths of cool air. It never helped to calm the ever present burning in my throat, but it was nice to flex my lungs after having held my breath for so long.  
  
        As my animal, vampire-self curled back up inside me—content, for the time being—my emotions came back to the forefront. Grief was bitter in my mouth: Jaime was gone. My pain was muddied by shame and anger. Shame for having growled at Aeva; for having thought of her as prey. Anger for knowing that nothing had happened like it was supposed to. Jaime was supposed to have met his grandson; there was supposed to have been more time. Viktor had told me that Aeva would prepare herself for her father’s death, but she hadn’t been doing that. She had simply been going about things as normal; she had even been more optimistic in the past few weeks. She’d been _hopeful_. So had I.  
  
        I stared around the clearing as my emotions rampaged around my chest and head. Little saplings had started sprouting and I started pulling them out and throwing them over the cliff’s edge. This was Jaime and Aeva’s clearing, and it would stay clear. I noticed that the trees around the edges of the space were smaller; they were new. I threw off my jacket and I started making space. I ripped out trees and shrubs and anything in my way. I threw boulders, hurling them into the lake. It was a pointless show of strength, just mindless aggression. But it helped the chaos inside of me to settle as I created order around me.  
  
        I heard the familiar buzz of my phone where I’d left it on the ground in my coat, but I was too engrossed to answer it. The phone buzzed nonstop for three hours, during which I managed to level and clean the entire clearing. When I was finished, it was a gigantic, perfect semicircle against the cliff face. I sat down right in the center and looked around at all of it, my phone still thrumming away determinedly. Finally, when the noise bothered me too much, I snatched the phone out of my jacket pocket and jammed it against my ear.  
  
         “What?”  
  
         “Nathan?” Manuel asked.  
  
         “Yes, what do you need?” I asked, trying to get my frustration under control.  
  
         “Aeva’s having the baby,” he blurted. “She went into labor a long time ago; I don’t know when they’re going to have her push, but it’s probably soon.”  
  
         “She can’t have the baby,” I said calmly, shaking my head. “It’s not due for another month.”  
  
         “I know,” Manuel said, sounding worried. “I really think you should be here. I’ve been calling you for ages. Why wouldn’t you pick up? Where have you _been_?”  
  
         “I was busy,” I replied, unable to move. “I’m coming.”  
  
         “Okay, we’re all still at the hospital. I guess it’s a good thing we were already here.”  
  
         “I’ll be there soon.” I hung up and then I was in a full sprint back the way I’d come. I was cursing myself the whole way for being so far from where she was. I’d been gone for a total of five hours, and it would be another two before I got to the hospital, even running at full tilt. It was one in the morning as I rocketed through the doors and up to the maternity ward.  
  
         “Where is she?” I demanded as soon as I got to the waiting room. Aeva’s brother, cousin, uncle, and grandfather were all sitting together with Chuy, Lupe, and Mercedes nearby.  
  
         “Nathan,” Manuel breathed, rising to greet me. “I was freaking out! Aeva went into labor like, as soon as she got here. We all thought you were here; we didn’t even know you left.”  
  
         “I wasn’t feeling well.” Normally, I had to lie to them, but that one was mostly true.  
  
         “Well I’m just glad you showed,” Miguel laughed. “Aeva would have been _pissed_ if you missed this.”  
  
         “I know,” I said, grinning back at him. “I would never have been able to live that down. How is it going?”  
  
         “She’s been yelling,” Carlos said, shrugging. “So I mean…good? That’s good, right?”  
  
         “Where is she? Should I go in there with her? Shouldn’t I be…holding her hand or something?”  
  
         “No, no,” Manuel chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t wanna be in there. It’s just blood and guts everywhere.” My legs fell out from under me and I collapsed into a chair.  
  
         “Ay, rubio,” Miguel grunted as one of my arms hit him on the way down. “What’s the matter with you?”  
  
         “Guts?” I asked weakly. Abuelo grabbed a magazine off of a table and threw it at Manuel.  
  
         “ _Tonto_ ,” he hissed. “You almost gave him a heart attack. There’s no guts, okay? Everything is going fine. We don’t go in there because that’s not how it’s done in this family. The men stay out here and wait. Trust me, she has more help than she can handle in there. You sit tight, rubio.”  
  
        They were too calm about this. I leaned my head on my hand, covering my eyes like I had a migraine. Really, I was just closing my eyes to listen. It didn’t take long to hear the right voices.  
  
         “Push!” Maria commanded. I heard a growl. “Good job, hija! That was a good one!”  
  
         “Oh dear _lord_ that hurt,” Aeva panted. “Little baby, you had better thank me for this!”  
  
         “Push!”  
  
         “Hughh…..Uhhhh….Gahhh! Oh, that was progress. Oh, was that ever progress.”  
  
         “Great job,” an unfamiliar voice said. I could only assume this was the doctor.  
  
        I looked up as someone came jogging around the corner. It was Holly, her blonde hair streaming behind her as she skidded to a stop. “It’s happening,” she panted. “It’s happening right now. She’s doing great and only swearing like…a little bit. She hasn’t taken a swing at anyone yet, which is good, but Frida might have a broken finger.”  
  
         “Still Aeva, even in birth,” Manuel laughed. I glanced back at him and he smiled. “I made the mistake of going in when Mercedes was being born. Holly started throwing punches when she was in labor. I took a few good ones before they kicked me back out to the waiting room. I got a black eye, a bloody nose, and a baby all in the same day.” I laughed in spite of myself, but was immediately distracted by more voices coming from Aeva’s room.  
  
         “Can you feel it moving down?” Lidia asked.  
  
         “YES I CAN FEEL IT MOVING DOWN!” Aeva screeched as she pushed. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK HURTS?”  
  
         “No se molesta a tu hermana, Lidi!” Maria commanded. “We don’t have time for this!”  
  
         “Yeah, knock it off,” Aeva agreed. “I’m currently a sacred vessel of life, here!”  
  
         “Oh stop whining and give birth already,” Frida snapped. I heard a slap and a yell.  
  
         “Mamá she _hit_ me!”  
  
         “She’s having a _baby_!” Maria shouted. “Forgive me for putting her pain before yours.”  
  
         “Ladies, if I could just redirect your focus…” The doctor was struggling to maintain control. “Go ahead Aeva, you’re crowning. Give it another big one!”  
  
         “Oh my GoooOOOOD!”  
  
         “There you go! There’s the head!” The doctor cheered. “One more!”  
  
         “Hughhhh….Woah! WOAH!”  
  
        Then, suddenly, there was a new cry. Shrill and piercing, but unmistakable: it was a baby.  
  
        This was too much for one day. That baby had to have come at the absolute worst time. Aeva’s father had _just_ passed away, and here it was, rushing in to take his place. The baby should have been born at a happy time, when she was ready. Now she was grieving and surely terrified, because her son had come early. From its conception, this baby had been nothing but a complication for her. I was certain that I was channeling an unfair amount of hostility toward a newborn infant, but I couldn’t stop myself.  
  
        Why did it bother me so much? It was only a baby, but it was Aeva’s baby. Now she would have to be constantly watching over it. If she cried for her father and I wanted to run and sweep her up, I’d have to give her time to set it down. And the poor little thing would need Aeva so terribly; I would have to share her. Ever since meeting her, I hadn’t had to do that. Her family didn’t demand her time in the same way that the baby would. She would need time to grieve. She would need time to work in her studio. She would need time to _sleep_. That baby would cut into all of it; it would cut into the time she needed for herself. I started to hate it.  
  
        I was the only person in the waiting room that knew the baby had been born. The others hadn’t been able to hear what I had hear, so when Lidia walked out empty handed, they were alarmed.  
  
         “Where’s the baby?” Manuel demanded, looking stricken. “Is it okay? Is _Aeva_ okay?”  
  
         “The baby is _fine_ ,” Lidia said, her eyes absolutely alight. She looked thrilled. “But the doctor doesn’t want me to bring it out here; it’s really small, since it’s early. But I still get to bring Nathan back to see it.”  
  
         “What is it?” Miguel asked, smiling broadly at the news.  
  
        Lidia grinned. “It’s a boy.”  
  
        I had forgotten I was the only one out of the men that already knew that fact as well, but I smiled along with them, accepting their handshakes and claps on my shoulders.  
  
         “Congratulations,” Carlos laughed. “Congratulations on your hijo.”  
  
        They were treating me like it was mine, but it wasn’t. Lidia was still waiting for me to go with her, but I wasn’t sure I even wanted to _see_ the baby. I was still struggling with my animosity toward the little thing when she beckoned to me.  
  
         “Come _on_. Aeva’s waiting for you.”  
  
        I would go for Aeva. I got up and followed after her, leaving the rest of the group behind.  
  
         “This way,” Lidia said, leading me a short way down the hall off of the waiting room. “Two thirty six, this is her room.” She smiled at me and took a deep breath before finally turning the knob. The door opened with a creak and she led me inside. Aeva’s mother, sister, grandmother, and the doctor were crowded around the bed, blocking my view. Doña Luisa was sitting in a chair and she squeezed my hand as I walked past, getting close enough to see over the women’s heads. Aeva smiled tiredly at me when she saw my face, and my grin answered without being asked.  
  
        Her wavy hair was messy and her deep brown-black eyes were glittering, though they had bags beneath them. Her skin was a little more pale than usual and her movements seemed a little slower, but her smile was the same. She was alright.  
  
         “You’re here,” she said simply. Her voice was a little thick, like voices usually are after screaming. She’d screamed quite a bit in labor; the little thing had hurt her. I hated it a little more.  
  
         “Is this daddy?” The doctor asked, looking up at me. She was Martha Dodson, mother of four, and longtime obstetrician. I heard her breath catch in her throat as soon as she saw my face, her eyes quickly travelling over the rest of me as well. Aeva laughed and patted the woman’s hand.  
  
         “Don’t worry, he has that effect on everyone,” she rasped. The doctor blushed and patted her hair.  
  
         “I ah…um…goodness. I’m sorry.”  
  
         “It’s fine, really,” Frida assured her. “We get it. He’s fine as hell, we all see him.”  
  
         “Frida,” I said, shaking my head at her. I realized I was laughing.  
  
         “Please excuse her, doctor,” Aeva continued, trying very hard to keep a straight face. “She is _always_ a pain. And yes, that’s the father. Can I have a minute alone with him, or do you need to stay with us?”  
  
         “Oh, oh, no,” the doctor said, regaining her composure and turning back to Aeva. “You can certainly have a moment alone. A nurse will be back in about ten minutes. Is that enough time?”  
  
         “Yes, thank you.” She smiled at the doctor and the woman ran a hand over Aeva’s hair.  
  
         “You did beautifully,” she praised. “I’ll chase your family out.”  
  
         “ _Thank you_ , Dr. Dodson.” Aeva sighed and dropped her head back on her pillows as the doctor shooed the various women out of the room, accompanied my much grumbling and some vulgar mutterings in Spanish. Soon, I was the only other person left and I stepped cautiously forward, never taking my eyes off of Aeva.  
  
         “How are you feeling?” I asked quietly. She smiled and shrugged.  
  
         “Tired mostly. It was more work than I expected. Come here.” She beckoned to me with her left hand. I walked forward a little until I noticed the bundle curled in her other arm. I froze mid step.  
  
         “So that’s the…” I choked on the word. “The baby?”  
  
         “Yeah,” Aeva said, a note of pride in her voice. “Yeah, it is.” She shifted the bundle so it was in the middle of her lap. “He just finished his first meal. He’s got some jaws, too, man.” It had hurt her _again_. It bit her when she fed it. I hated it a little more still.  
  
         “Oh,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry.”  
  
         “Don’t be,” she laughed. “It’s fine. Now _come here_ and look at him.” I didn’t move, but she unwrapped the bundle, peeling away the blanket until all that was left was a tiny, sleeping baby. I didn’t hear anything in my head when I saw him, but that was normal. I never heard anything from children that couldn’t speak; they had no way to tell their story yet. He looked remarkably like Aeva, though. He had her dark hair, her brown skin, her big lips, and her heart shaped face. Not an ounce of his red headed father seemed to be present in him and for that, I was thankful.  
  
         “He’s cute,” I commented. Aeva grinned and scooped him up in her arms.  
  
         “He’s _beautiful_ ,” she murmured into his hair. His little hand tapped at her face and she kissed his fingers. I couldn’t hate him. She was so happy—so rapturously happy—as she held him that I couldn’t hate him for hurting her. I couldn’t hate anything that made Aeva smile like that. She was _glowing_.  
  
         “He looks just like you,” I murmured, staring down at the both of them. She glanced at me and all at once, the baby’s little body was offered over the side of the bed.  
  
         “Hold him,” she commanded. My eyes bugged out and I stepped back.  
  
         “No Aeva, I can’t,” I protested. I had done well with her; I’d even been handling Chuy and Lupe well, but this was a newborn baby. A _premature_ new born baby! And I just been on the verge of massacring her entire family. I was certain I wouldn’t want to bite the thing, but I wasn’t entirely sure I wouldn’t break it.  
  
         “Nathan,” she said sternly, “if you don’t take this baby from me right now, I will drop it on the floor.”  
  
         “Don’t joke like that,” I snapped, my voice unusually high. She shrugged and ripped her hands out from under the baby.  
  
         “Aeva!” I shouted, but the baby was in my hands before it had dropped an inch. “How could you _do_ that?”  
  
         “I knew you would catch him,” she laughed, leaning back against her pillows. “Now just soak it in; you’re holding a _baby_.” I glanced down at the tiny thing in my hands.  
  
        I had him balanced on the tips of my fingers and he had a little grimace on his face; it was just like Aeva’s. I smiled in spite of myself, but I didn’t reposition him. I was too scared. It felt like I was holding a butterfly wing. I was sure that even a shift in my weight would be enough to kill him; I went rigid and held my breath. After a minute like that, he made a little noise of protest.  
  
         “Take him back,” I pleaded. “He doesn’t like it when I hold him.”  
  
         “That’s because you’re not holding him, you’re just propping him up,” Aeva laughed, not moving an inch. “ _Hold_ him, Nathan.”  
  
         “Aeva, please, take him back,” I begged. “I’m so scared I’m going to hurt him.”  
  
         “You won’t,” she said instantly. “And don’t you dare say a thing to the contrary.”  
  
         “But I’m cold, love,” I reasoned. “He’ll freeze.”  
  
         “He’s just like me,” she laughed, putting her palms on the backs of my hands. The skin there burned fabulously. “We’re hot blooded. He’ll like the cold, just like I do.” She applied more pressure to my hands and I realized she was pushing them towards me. I took a deep breath and allowed her to guide my hands to my chest and the baby just sort of slid off of my fingertips and into the little cradle my palms had created. I had his body in one hand and his head in the other and if I splayed my fingers, I could have covered him completely. I’d had no idea he would be so small. I didn’t know humans this tiny could survive, but there he was breathing as deeply as you like with his little heart thrumming furiously against my body.  
  
        I realized then that he was just over the spot that _my_ heart was in, the spot where my heart beat should have answered from. I thought it would bother him, but he didn’t stir. I was so curious about what he was doing that I turned him, just a little so that I could see his face, and he was smiling. _Smiling,_. It was like he _liked_ being held by hands made of ice, by a creature with no heart beat, by someone who until moments before had hated him. And he just smiled at me.  
  
         “Aeva, will you take him back now?” I asked, still stunned by the expression on his face. “I…I like holding him, but that’s enough for now, okay?”  
  
         “Okay,” she assented, smoothing out the blankets over her legs. “Just plop the little guy right here.” I walked carefully forward and, ever so gently, laid him in her lap. I let out a sigh of relief and closed my eyes once he was safely down, but when I went to pull my hands away, I felt a hint of resistance.  
  
         “Aeva, please love, I’m done,” I sighed.  
  
         “It’s not me,” she laughed. I glanced down and saw that curled around my long, pale index finger were five stout little pink ones. The baby had my hand. Aeva stroked his hair with one hand and set the other hand on my cheek and I was stuck. I couldn’t move. It was more than not wanting to; I physically could not move. I could not exist anywhere but there, with Aeva’s hand on my face and that baby latched onto me.  
  
         “So,” Aeva said quietly. “How does it feel to be a daddy?”  
  
         “What did you say?” I asked, staring wide eyed at Aeva. She smiled up at me.  
  
         “How does it feel to be a daddy?” she repeated. I shook my head.  
  
         “I don’t know, Aeva. I’m not one. I’m not his father.”  
  
         “I know that,” Aeva snorted. “I wouldn’t want you to be. His father is not a person that I ever care for him to know.” She looked down at her lap and smiled. Her hand closed on mine and I realized the baby was still holding onto me.  
  
         “When he grabs you like this, he’s not asking you to be his father, his _padre_ ,” Aeva said softly. “He’s asking you to be his _papa_ , his daddy; to be the person that raises him. You’re going to be the one that reads to him and then checks under the bed for monsters before you say good night. He is asking you to be the one that loves him, Nathan. That’s what a daddy is; a papá. That’s what he wants you to be. That’s what I want you to be. So what do you say?” I just stared and nodded, kneeling to be closer to the both of them. How could I say no? His hand clenched a little tighter on mine.  
  
         “I’m his…daddy?” I asked, still bewildered. I felt Aeva’s lips on my temple.  
  
         “You are now,” she whispered. “And I love you. You and our son.” That knocked the wind out of me. _Our_ son? This little baby in her lap was _ours_? In those four little words, she had given him to me more profoundly that if she’d thrust him into my hands forever. He was ours, he was _mine_. He wasn’t just another human that I would take care of, he was my son. I had a son. I was a daddy.  
  
         “Can I…try picking him up again?” I asked, finally looking away from his face to Aeva’s. She gave me a soft smile and nodded, gently sliding her hands under the baby’s body to lift him slightly. I kissed her forehead and then turned to carefully lift the baby out of her grasp. When he was safely back against my chest, I bowed my head and rested my nose in his hair, taking in his scent. He smelled sweet, but also a little musty, like sleep. I smiled against his head. His cheek was on my collar bone and I felt it swell as he grinned with me.  
  
         “His name is Phoenix,” Aeva said thoughtfully. “I thought it was fitting.”  
  
         “Why’s that?” I asked, looking up at her, but not moving my head.  
  
         “Well, they’re the beauty born from ashes; the life from death,” she murmured, staring at my hands around our son. “He’s Phoenix Jaime Sanchez. It’s kind of a short name by our standards; we can add something else in later.”  
  
        I laughed and kissed the baby’s head. “Hello, little Phoenix,” I whispered to him. “My little boy.” Phoenix smiled and took hold of my finger again.  
  



	23. Seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get to know the new baby

###  _Aeva_

         I had done it. I had _actually_ done it.  
  
         I was staring at the dark haired little boy in my arms. There he was, breathing and grunting while he ate; he was living proof.  
  
         I did it: I had a baby.  
  
         At first, it was scary. I couldn’t catch my breath and Manuel ran over to me and I sort of peed my pants. Well, I _thought_ I peed my pants. It turns out it was my water breaking, which is not less disgusting than urinating on yourself. It’s actually a little worse, because there’s a lot and it smells kind of crazy. That was what I was focused on as a flurry of hands settled me into a wheel chair and I went flying to another ward in the hospital: I was thinking about how strange amniotic fluid smelled.  
  
         The contractions started up pretty quickly and I finally got my mind back on track…mostly. I still wasn’t really thinking about my labor, I was thinking about Nathan. I had no idea where he had gone, but I hoped he was eating. I was distracted as I answered questions from the doctors and nurses; it was sort of an out of body experience, really. It was like it wasn’t really me pacing around the hospital room in the little paper gown; like it was someone else crouching as her abdomen tried to crush itself and shooing away nurses with needles. Whoever it was that I was watching have a baby was stupidly determined to do so without any drugs. I regretted her choice as soon as the doctor told me it was time to push. The pain that shot through my whole body ripped me right back into my own consciousness and I squeezed my sister’s hand so hard I heard a loud pop and she whimpered but, to her credit, didn’t cry.  
  
         The doctors were worried, since I was early. I was just shy of 37 weeks. They kept saying that number over and over again: 37 weeks, 37 weeks, 37 weeks. That was the magical amount of time you had to keep your baby inside of your body to have it not count as premature. I was at 35 and three quarters weeks. It didn’t seem like that much of a difference to me, but everyone else seemed panicked. There were lots of guesses about why my labor had started so suddenly: I had run when Frida and I were in the mall, I had been traumatized by the sudden loss of my father, and I had been scared. I was intentionally vague about what I meant by that. It wasn’t something I was able to just say out loud: _Oh yes, my vampire lover growled at me like a bear and I thought he was going to rip my throat out with his razor sharp, venom filled teeth_. It was best left with a wishy washy answer. Everyone seemed so determined to sniff out a reason it had happened, but ultimately, it didn’t matter. I was in labor and my son was demanding to be born _immediately_. Not in nine more days. He was ready to go. Right. That. Minute.  
  
         I was screaming the whole time and all the women in my family were lined up along the sides of my bed, screaming right back at me. I don’t remember a whole lot of the process. I know the doctor, Martha, looked terrified and I slapped Frida at some point. Doña Luisa was chanting the Hail Mary and I could hear her rosary beads clacking together, like a strange backing soundtrack while my body was turned inside out. I roared and I reminded myself of Viktor and Nathan wrestling on my bedroom floor the night the Russian vampire had tried to murder me; I bet the sounds I was making would have scared the shit out him. They certainly scared Dr. Dodson.  
  
         Then, just as suddenly as the pain had started, it was done and something wet and warm was dropped against my chest. It was screaming its little head off and I looked down to find the reddest, angriest, littlest most incredibly _alive_ baby I’d ever seen resting over my heart. He was astounding and I was in love.  
  
         “Hi,” I laughed, staring down at him. “It’s nice to meet you.”  
  
         They took him away and cleaned him up. I was thankful that our family didn’t make a big deal out of cutting the umbilical cord; it looked disgusting and so did the after birth. The doctor asked me if I wanted to keep my placenta and Abuela actually gagged.  
  
         “Fucking Gwyneth Paltrow,” Mamá had whispered. “She did weird shit to her placenta and now everybody wants you to freeze it and eat it later. Crazy gringa.”  
  
         It was so ridiculous to me to hear my mother insulting some random, white celebrity that I couldn’t help but laugh. I was crying too, but she held my hand and laughed with me. She kissed my face and wiped the sweat off my forehead, whispering, “Well done, Estrella. Well done.”  
  
         For all the shit I had been put through in one day, the universe had at least seen fit to cut me a few breaks. I had not torn, I had not been cut, and my baby—although small—was in excellent health. The first two things were actually _because_ he was little, and so it turns out even that was a sort of blessing. Abuela had been able to go back to the house and retrieve all of the receiving blankets she had made while I was still pacing around and having contractions. She held them all up as the nurses cleaned the baby and I grinned at her. My options were lavender, crimson, sky blue, and daisy yellow. But the last one, clutched in her left hand, was a beautiful moss green. I picked that one.  
  
         Nathan’s favorite color was green, after all.  
  
         Once the little guy was cleaned, measured, and swaddled, he was handed back to me. He had a lot of hair for being only a few minutes old; it was soft and black and stuck up in all directions. I loved it.  
  
         “He’s so beautiful,” Lidia whispered, leaning on the bed next to me and resting her head on my shoulder. I leaned my cheek against hers and we stared at my little son together. “I can’t believe you _made_ him.”  
  
         “I know,” I agreed. “It’s pretty crazy, isn’t it?”  
  
         “You ready to carry him out?” Frida asked from her identical position on my other side. “It’s your turn, Lidi.”  
  
         “Yep,” Mamá agreed, beaming at all three of us. “You get to take him out to Nathan.”  
  
         “Is Nathan here?” I asked, suddenly even more excited.  
  
         “Manuel’s been calling him like crazy,” Frida replied, shrugging. “But I haven’t been out there in a while. Even if he isn’t there, you have an older brother who is just dying to meet his nephew.” I smiled at the thought of Manuel holding my little boy; he would probably tear up. So would Miguelito.  
  
         “Yeah, take him Lidia,” I said, slipping his little body into her arms. “Go show everyone what we’ve been working on in here.”  
  
         “Are you planning to take him out of the room?” The doctor said, hurrying over. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I should let you. He’s premature; I’d like to keep a close eye on him.”  
  
         “He’s _barely_ premature,” I muttered, crossing my arms. Dr. Dodson was firm though and Lidia left empty handed. Once she was gone a nurse came over and grinned at me.  
  
         “So what did you want to call him, Aeva?” She asked. My family stared at me expectantly for a moment. I’d certainly come up with names, but I hadn’t nailed anything down until then. Honestly, I thought I’d have more time. I stared down at the little boy in my lap, brushing my fingers over his cheeks.  
  
         “Phoenix,” I said. “Phoenix Jaime Sanchez.”  
  
         “A beautiful name,” the nurse said, writing it down. “And for the father’s name?”  
  
         “Nathan.” It came out like a reflex. “Sorry,” I said, smiling slightly. “His full name is Nataniel. Nataniel Björn Evanov-Wulff.”  
  
         The nurse hesitated, glancing up at me. “I…I think I’ll need you to spell that.” I helped her while the ladies around me exchanged knowing glances. No one corrected me.  
  
         When Nathan had first held Phoenix, he’d looked absolutely terrified. I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Nathan holding Phee on the very tips of his fingers, staring at him with huge eyes. He’d looked ridiculous. Now, however, Nathan was every bit as fascinated with the little guy as I was. He would climb into my hospital bed beside me and we’d set Phee between us and just watch him. He was absolutely amazing.  
  
         No one ever tells you how in awe of your kid you are when they’re first born. I mean, I knew nothing about the little man, except that I had somehow managed to make him. We were told he was helpless, but he kicked and threw his little fists around. He gurgled and screamed and ate and pooped. He seemed very capable to us; a very capable little stranger.  
  
         He looked just like me, and I had always looked like Papá. I could see my father everywhere in him. He had our thick dark hair, our same shaped eyes, our little nose. Jason was nowhere in him, or so I thought until he finally opened his eyes. They were a shocking blue color, just like his father’s. I had a hunch that when Nathan was still human, his eyes were very much that same color as well. But I kept in mind that these were not Jason’s eyes and these were not Nathan’s eyes; these were Phoenix’s eyes.  
  
         I had to spend two nights in the hospital. The first night, they took Phoenix away to put him in a sort of incubator that most premature babies needed. The doctors were shocked to find that he did not need help regulating his body temperature, but I wasn’t. He was _mine_ after all. They probably would have been better off to have a fan blowing on him while he slept in the nursery area. The second night, they let him stay in my room with me. They told me I probably wouldn’t sleep much, but I slept just fine. Nathan woke me up occasionally to feed Phoenix, but the rest of the night, the baby was quiet. I peeked through my eyelashes quite a few times to see that the blissful quiet was due to a very tall, very handsome man stooped over the bassinet keeping a close watch on the newest member of our family.  
  
         We figured our little stranger out pretty quickly. We learned the things he liked right away: he liked me the most, and Nathan second. He liked Mamá and Manuel, but he cried if Frida held him. He liked being talked to, but he wasn’t much one for singing. One thing he absolutely hated was getting his diaper changed. He didn’t mind getting the old one off, or his bottom cleaned, but he would scream as soon as you tried to put the new one on.  
  
         “Just leave it off,” Nathan laughed as I struggled with a set of tiny, kicking legs. “He likes it that way.”  
  
         “He needs a diaper,” I snapped, finally getting one side fastened. “I’m not just going to let him pee all over everything.”  
  
         “Well, if I’m ever alone with him, it’s coming off,” Nathan declared.  
  
         “And if you ever want me to actually let you watch him by yourself,” I said, sticking the Velcro on the other latch. “You better keep his butt bundled. Besides, if we can’t prove we know how to do this, they won’t let us take him home.”  
  
         “Aeva,” He groaned, falling against the back of his chair. I’d been saying similar things for quite some time. Phoenix would have to stay in the hospital longer than I would, because he was still on the small side. I was doing everything in my power to make his extra time as short as possible by showing just how incredibly competent I was as a parent. The more I tried to show off my competence, the more I questioned it, and this process seemed to be wearing on Nathan.  
  
         “I’m just worried,” I sighed, snapping the clasps of Phoenix’s onesie shut and tucking his arms in to swaddle him. We were still using the moss green blanket. Once he was tightly bundled, I scooped him up and handed him off to Nathan, whose hands were out and eagerly waiting. I smiled as he pulled Phoenix in, nestling him in the crook of his arm and pressing his lips to his forehead. I knew I was in love with our son, but Nathan seemed truly smitten. I was still staring at the two of them when Dr. Dodson came bustling in, clipboard in hand.  
  
         “Hello, mommy and daddy,” she said cheerily, taking us in. “How’s baby doing today?”  
  
         “He just took a gigantic poo, actually,” Nathan said just as brightly. I smacked him gently, but the doctor didn’t seem to notice.  
  
         “Good, good,” she murmured, looking over a chart. “Well, I just wanted to let you two know that today is check out for you guys.”  
  
         “Really?” I asked. “No more observation or anything? We can take him home?”  
  
         “Oh, no, the little guy can’t go home quite yet,” she said, coming over and stroking Phee’s cheek. “He’s just got to catch up in weight and he’ll be all set to go. Shouldn’t be more than a week.” She left the room and I just stared at Nathan.  
  
         “What?” He asked after a moment.  
  
         “We’re going home,” I whispered. “ _Without_ Phoenix.”  
  
         “Maybe that’s for the best,” he sighed, gently bouncing his arms. “We do have a funeral to attend.”  
  
         He was right; Papá’s service would be held the following afternoon. I obviously had not taken part in any of the planning, but I was surprised to learn that Nathan sort of had. He was the financier of the whole event, something that Mamá had only allowed once he told her that Papá had asked him to help. It would be nice to have a day at home before going to the funeral; there would be time to take a breath.  
  
         Nathan brought me fresh clothes from the house while I had my final once-over done. It was just leggings and a sweater, but they smelled like our house and I was surprised at how comforting that was. After I was all dressed, he and I went to the nursery to say goodbye to Phee. It felt awful to set him in his bassinet and know that we would be leaving him alone in the hospital. Obviously he wouldn’t really be alone; there were 16 other babies in the room and hundreds of staff bustling around, but none of them were _his_ people. None of them belonged to Phoenix, so it felt like we were abandoning him. I actually had tears welling up at the thought of it.  
  
         “Hush, love,” Nathan said, sliding his arms around me from behind and resting his lips in my hair. “We can come see him every day. It’s only a week.”  
  
         “Yeah, just a week,” I sighed, running my hand over my son’s hair. Nathan put his hand forward to brush his fingers along the baby’s cheek; Phoenix turned his head toward the touch and it made me smile. He liked the way Nathan felt just as much as I did. I was discovering that it was an unexpected thing that made me incredibly happy.  
  
         I loved Nathan; I loved him more than I had words to describe. He was exactly who I wanted to speak to every day and exactly who I wanted wrapped around me at night. I had spent my childhood and adolescence imagining the perfect partner for myself; if I had known that Nathan had existed then, I might have done a better job of it. I knew I would always want Nathan. He was a forever that was very easy to say yes to.  
  
         I’d been worried, before Phoenix was born, that I wouldn’t love my child enough. I defined “enough” as “more than anything else,” and so having Nathan around made that a problem. I wasn’t sure that I _could_ love something more than I loved Nathan; I don’t think the human body is designed to withstand that kind of stress. But when they set Phoenix against my chest, still wet and messy, it didn’t even feel like he’d had to make room for himself in my heart. It didn’t feel like I’d had to rearrange anything or add any space; it was like meeting someone who already lived there. I loved him just as much as I loved Nathan and it felt like I always had.  
  
         I had these two things—my two boys—that I was so deeply, madly in love with that I thought it couldn’t be improved upon, but then they fell in love with each other. Nathan was absolutely, undeniably, and irreversibly _smitten_ with our son. Every time Phoenix was in his arms, his beautiful, angular face took on the softest expression I’d ever seen. His eyes were constantly moving, trying to look at every part of Phee’s face at once. I didn’t know how much better his vision was than mine, but I was pretty sure he must have been seeing something spectacular. He hummed when he had the baby as well, and that was new.  
  
         Nathan wasn’t one for absent minded gestures or habits. The only one I’d seen from him was when he ran his hand through his hair, though that usually meant he was thinking or worrying. The two had often been the same thing for us in the past few months. He’d never hummed though, but set Phoenix in his arms and out came a quiet little song. Phoenix settled immediately when Nathan would start. He could have been screaming full blast, but with his ear to Nathan’s chest as he hummed, Phee would go quiet every time. It was like a magic trick.  
  
         Nathan could be a really imposing figure when he wanted to be. When he stood up to his full height, he towered over just about everyone. At six feet seven inches, he towered even when he slouched. His broad shoulders and lean build only added to how big he could look if he tried, but he usually held his body in positions that made him look smaller. He didn’t intimidate when he didn’t have to. With Phoenix cupped in his big hands, though, he not only looked smaller, he suddenly looked soft. He curled himself in, like he was protecting Phee from all sides. I knew his skin felt like stone, but the way he changed as he held our son, made me suddenly think that if I squeezed his hand, it would have some give. He was still heart-breakingly beautiful, but he lost the supernatural edge to his appearance; Phoenix humanized him as nothing else did.  
  
         I was overjoyed that Nathan loved our son, but I wasn’t prepared for the jolt to my heart that came along with the realization that Phoenix loved him back. In just three days, it had been made abundantly clear to everyone that Nathan and I belonged to that baby; we were his favorite sets of arms to be in and his favorite voices to hear. I could tell that Phoenix knew me; it was clear that he felt safe when I held him. But he gripped Nathan’s long, white fingers just as hard as he did mine. He couldn’t hear Nathan when he walked into a room—no one could—but Phee had already learned his smell. He would breathe in and fuss, impatient for his second favorite person to pick him up. Phoenix loved me, but he had no choice but to be in my arms on occasion. The boy had to eat, after all. He had no reason or need to be held by Nathan, but he demanded it all the same. I loved them both so fiercely and it soothed something deep inside me to know that they felt the same way about each other.  
  
         “We’ll be back tomorrow,” Nathan murmured, taking his hand back from Phoenix and lacing his fingers through mine. I knew the statement wasn’t an acquiescence or a promise just to make me feel better; if I suddenly decided I didn’t want to see Phee, Nathan would return by himself.  
  
         He and I walked to our car hand in hand, our arms swinging gently between us. Nathan drove, but he kept his hand on my knee the whole way. I skimmed my fingers up and down his forearm, glad to have him to keep me company while we waited out the week. It was waiting though, I reminded myself. We had to keep living in the meantime.  
  
         The house was just like we’d left it. A coat over a chair, a cup in the sink, magazines on the coffee table. The smell of the place hit me like a wall. I’d never really thought about what my house smelled like, but after being away for a few days, I noticed it and breathed deeply.  
  
         “Welcome home,” Nathan said, watching me carefully. I could see that he was confused, but I was smiling, so he didn’t know if he ought to worry about my strange behavior.  
  
         “It smells good in here,” I laughed. “It smells like us.” Nathan’s eyebrows crept up and he came closer, threading his arms around my waist.  
  
         “Can I ask an odd question?”  
  
         “Sure.”  
  
         “What do I smell like to you?”  
  
         “Cinnamon rolls.”  
  
         “What?” He laughed, cocking his head. “I smell like a cinnamon roll?”  
  
         “Kind of! I mean, not the bread part. You don’t smell like bread.” I leaned into him, putting my face against his chest and taking a deep breath. “But you smell like cinnamon and sugar and maybe nutmeg? You smell warm and sweet.”  
  
         “That’s interesting,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “You smell warm and sweet too, but not like that.”  
  
         “Do you like how I smell?”  
  
         He smiled and bowed his head low, putting his face right next to mine. “I do,” he whispered. “And I like how you make me smell.”  
  
         “How I make you smell?” I was surprised I got the question out. He was very close and wearing an expression I hadn’t seen in a while.  
  
         “When you touch me, you leave your scent.” He brushed his nose along my cheek as he kissed my jaw. “The more you touch, the stronger it gets.” He kissed the skin below my ear. “And I like when I can smell you on me.”  
  
         “Can you smell yourself on me?” I breathed, moving my hand to the nape of his neck. “After we touch?” He smiled against my skin and nodded. “Do we smell good together?”  
  
         He groaned and lifted his head, touching his forehead to mine. “I wish I could explain it to you. I wish you could smell it like I do. We smell very good together.” He stared into my eyes for just a second longer before closing his and pressing his mouth to mine in a kiss. I had grown accustomed to his kisses being very gentle as of late, but this one was firm and bossy. He tightened his hold around me with one hand, crushing me to him, and brought the other up to hold my face. My hand on his neck was instantly in his hair and my other took his hip. I didn’t mind being bossed around a bit if it felt like that kiss did.  
  
         When he finally pulled away, he took a step back and looked at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered, smiling slightly. I knew he couldn’t blush, but it was the only thing missing from the scene in front of me.  
  
         “Are you embarrassed?” I asked, closing the gap between us and putting my hand back on his hip. “Is that what this is?”  
  
         His sheepish smile turned into a grin and he rolled his eyes. “I got carried away just then. I’m sorry about that. It’s just been a while since I could…”  
  
         “Since you could what?”  
  
         “Hold you like that,” he replied, shrugging slightly. “I don’t have to worry about hugging you too tightly. But…I suppose do have to worry about that, don’t I? You’re still healing, I should have been gentler.”  
  
         I wanted to tell him that he hadn’t been too rough at all and that it was fine, but once he’d mentioned it, I noticed the dull pain in my lower abdomen where he’d pressed against me. Not wanting to hurt his feelings but also not wanting to risk injury, I settled on saying, “Give me a few more days of gentle, but then definitely do that again.”  
  
         He grinned and kissed me again, soft and chaste. “I can do that.”  
  
         I was happier about that bargain than I let on. While I desperately wanted to be pressed up against Nathan, between my aching body and exhausted emotions, I wasn’t really feeling up to it. A few days to rest would be nice. Before I got to rest, though, I had to say goodbye to my father.  
  
         His service was sort of a blur. I didn’t look up often, because I was crying, but I registered that the church was absolutely filled with flowers. Nathan had spared no expense, though he didn’t discuss it. He remained absolutely silent for the entire service, his arm wrapped around me, offering me wordless reassurance. He was doing exactly as he’d promised and held me together as I broke down. He held my hand in my coat pocket as we watched the casket get lowered into the freezing ground. We all stood in the graveyard, up to our ankles in snow, and tossed our handfuls of dirt in. The whole ordeal felt strange and hollow; Papá wasn’t there. I hoped my mother was right about death and that it only felt that way because he was off doing something more worthwhile and not because he was actually gone forever.  
  
         The hollow feeling didn’t go away after the burial. It settled into my chest and as I laid in bed that night, Nathan still wrapped securely around me, I felt lonely. It struck me that, for only the second night ever, Nathan and I were truly alone in our bed. Up until then, Phoenix had always been present with us, whether in an obvious way or not. It was strange not to feel him shifting inside of me, letting me know he was there. It felt wrong to know that he wasn’t just across the landing in the nursery I’d made for him either. He was lying in a hospital on the other side of town. But, as Nathan had promised, we visited him every day. I was counting down the days until he was at the proper weight and we could leave with him. I needed my baby home with me to start healing; I was sure about that much.  
  
         When the day finally came, my excitement started to turn to anxiety. I was really worried about having Phoenix at home; I mean, when Frida had had her first baby, she’s been pretty close to my age. She used to love to tell me the horror stories: two hours of sleep a night, constant crying, all the diapers, vomit everywhere, always frustrated. I was justifiably terrified. But having Nathan around made a huge difference.  
  
         On the nights that he went hunting, I didn’t get much sleep, but that was only two or three times a month. Other than that, by the time I’d wake up to Phoenix crying, I could hear Nathan talking to him through the baby monitor. Honestly, with his sense of hearing, we didn’t even need the monitor. He seemed to know when Phoenix needed attention before Phoenix did. Nathan’s top priority was making sure I got enough sleep and I couldn’t thank him enough for it. With every night I was able to sleep soundly through, I felt the whirlwind of emotions in my chest settling themselves down.  
  
         We were simply getting on with life and getting to know our fascinating little stranger of a son. Phoenix was quiet and didn’t cry very much, but was eager to eat and was very easy to make smile. He was almost never by himself, even while he slept. We weren’t sure if his seemingly content response to this was because he was a very social child, or just very tolerant of his overly involved parents. I often took him out to the studio with me and held him in my lap as I painted or let him lounge on the floor and play with his toys while I worked. My time in the studio shed steadily became more regular and while I focused my time on my son and my work, Nathan also took up a hobby.  
  
         He started cooking in earnest, trying more and more daring recipes just for my benefit. He was a quick study, but I was careful not to pester him about culinary school. He’d made it clear that hobbies and pastimes were something that came from a human part of him that was still waking up. While caring for Phoenix seemed to humanize him to an immense degree, he was still playing catch up. For the duration, it was nice to see him explore. I learned that if I looked out the window of my studio at just the right angle, I could see him in the kitchen, head bowed low over a recipe and talking to himself.  
  
         It sometimes shocked me how normal he was. He certainly still moved much faster than a regular person and his skin still shined brilliantly when the sun hit it, but he seemed so…human. It was so easy for me to forget that Nathan was a vampire; to think of him as being just like any other man. And after we put Phoenix to bed and went to our room together and he curled around me, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t the actual father of my son. It was easy to forget that he was not my husband. I felt like we were just like any other family.  
  
         But I wondered, sometimes, what I was supposed to do when Phoenix was finally old enough to realize Nathan didn’t age. Would we tell him? I knew it wasn’t normal to feel safe with vampires and to trust them. If it was, Nathan wouldn’t have to hide in the first place. But for those first few months, I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to pretend that everything was perfect, because everything had gone so wrong before. I needed a break from reality.  
  
         The time when I was most fully separated from real life was when I was in the studio and I dirtied my hands. I filled canvas after canvas with paint and covered reams of paper with charcoal images. Nathan and I began to worry about the paint fumes and my blackened hands being around Phoenix, so we would swap him throughout the day as we spent our time apart. He was either in the studio with me or with Nathan, strapped to his chest in the carrier Manuel had gifted us, learning to cook with his father. On one such occasion, I had decided I was finished working for the day and hurried through the cold to get back to the house, desperately needing to wash my hands. The entire house smelled phenomenal as Nathan pulled two fresh loaves of bread out of the oven. Phoenix was napping in the carrier, unaware of the dusty white coating on his head.  
  
         “You got flour on the baby,” I laughed, turning on the faucet.  
  
         Nathan looked at me out of the corner of his eye and replied, “I got flour on everything.”  
  
         He wasn’t lying. It was all over the countertops, the floor, and his clothes. “So is bread harder than it looks?”  
  
         “No, bread is fine,” he chuckled, also putting his hands under the water. “But mixers can be fussy. Who knew?”  
  
         “You’re ridiculous,” I laughed, reaching up to slid Phee out of the baby carrier. He grumbled slightly as I hugged him to my chest, brushing the flour out of his soft hair. Nathan grinned at me. “You need to go shower,” I teased.  
  
         “You’re probably right. Should I hug you before I go? You’re the odd man out.” I swatted at him and he disappeared, laughing as he darted to the bathroom as quickly as possible. I decided to wait for him in our bedroom and laid Phee down on one of our pillows before going to his nursery and bringing back a few toys. We sat and played while we listened to the water run.  
  
         “Phoenix, look at this one!” I cooed, shaking a bear shaped rattle. He giggled and stuck out his hands for it. He wasn’t generally a noisy baby, but he certainly preferred noisy toys. I jiggled it again and tapped it to his nose. This sent him into hysterical peals of laughter.  
  
         “Pheeee,” I called. “Here it comes again!” I stuck the toy out, right by his face, and he didn’t react. He wasn’t even looking at it. I brushed his nose again and he turned his head forward with a big smile and tried to take the rattle. I put it just out of reach of his arms and, though his eyes were wide open, his hands were groping off to the right. I picked up a new toy, one that didn’t make noise, and moved it in wide circles, in and out of his line of sight.  
  
         He didn’t react to it.  
  
         I stared at his smiling face for a long time in absolute silence as an experiment. After some time, his smiled dropped. He stuck his arms out on either side of him, patting the bed, and he kicked his feet. He began to whimper and soon, he was wailing for no reason.  
  
         “Phoenix,” I clucked. “What is the matter?” He stopped crying and his eyes began rolling around and his hands patted faster, like he was looking for me. I was leaning right over him, looking straight down at his face. He just couldn’t see me.  
  
         “Is something wrong?”  
  
         I jumped at the sound of Nathan’s voice. He came out of the bathroom, hair still damp, and sat on the bed with us.  
  
         “No, we’re fine,” I murmured, turning back to Phee. He’d heard Nathan too and had his hands in the air, waiting to be greeted.  
  
         “I heard him crying and it started so suddenly that I thought he might have hit his head or something,” Nathan explained, offering the baby his hand. Phoenix grabbed onto his fingers and tried to stuff one in his mouth.  
  
         “Don’t give him your hand.”  
  
         “…Don’t?” He asked, glancing up at me. “Why not? He’s fine; I _just_ washed my hands.”  
  
         “Just take it away for a second,” I instructed. “Don’t touch him and sit really quietly for a moment. Watch what he does.” Nathan did as I told him and I went silent as well. After a few moments, Phoenix began searching the bed with his hands again and his bottom lip poked out in frustration. Then he burst out crying.  
  
         A deep furrow appeared between Nathan’s eyebrows. “Why is he crying?”  
  
         “I don’t think he knows where we are.”  
  
         “We’re right here,” Nathan hushed, kissing Phee’s cheek. The baby immediately pressed his hands to Nathan’s face and grabbed a little fistful of his hair. He was acting like he’d been lost and then suddenly found.  
  
         “He can’t see,” Nathan murmured, looking up at me.  
  
         “No, I don’t think he can,” I agreed. “We should take him to a doctor and see what we can do. I mean, when babies are really young, sometimes you can fix things like this, you know? Their brains can rewire themselves.”  
  
         “Okay, we’ll make an appointment.”  
  
         I stared at Nathan as he picked up our potentially blind baby and nuzzled his plump little cheeks. The sun came through the window behind me and caught the side of Nathan’s face, glittering there like shattered glass. I reached out and gently stroked his skin, and he looked over at me with a smile. If Phoenix was really blind, I would never have to explain to him why Nathan’s skin did this in the sun. I would never have to explain why he was so pale or why his eyes changed color. If Phoenix was really blind, he might never have to know that Nathan was a vampire at all. I stared down at those wide open, vacant blue eyes in my son’s head and gave a silent, selfish prayer that they would never see the man that was right in front of them.  
  



	24. Desired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan thinks a lot of thoughts

###  _Nathan_

        Holding a baby was not nearly as difficult as I had expected. Mostly, it entailed putting my arms and hands in a position that was difficult for the baby to roll out of and then not dropping him. Of course, it was also helpful that he didn’t really move very much; being only a few months old, Phoenix was lacking in basic motor skills. Unfortunately, after our conversation with a pediatric ophthalmologist, Phoenix’s motor skills wouldn’t improve very quickly.  
  
        Aeva was right: he was blind. He could detect light and dark to a certain degree, but not much else. I was frustrated with myself for not having been the first to figure it out. I should have seen right away that Phoenix’s eyes didn’t track our faces as we moved or that he tilted his ear toward sounds, rather than looking in their direction. I _should_ have noticed quite a lot, but I didn’t. I wasn’t paying attention to anything that might have been wrong with Phoenix; as far as I was concerned, nothing was. Even after the doctor gave his diagnosis, I couldn’t think of anything about him as _wrong_ or _broken_. The terms the doctor had used were “underdeveloped” and “malformed.” Phoenix’s optic nerves just hadn’t grown properly. The doctor had looked at Aeva and asked, “Did you have an usually stressful pregnancy?”  
  
        In short, yes.  
  
        But, of course, we pretended she had not and took our son home playing the part of the appropriately bewildered new parents. When we returned home, Aeva sat down on the window seat. She stared pensively out into the street and her face was hard to read. I pulled Phoenix out of his carrier and sat in one of the leather chairs, feet propped on the coffee table. He laid quietly against my chest, a thick blanket insulating him from me; we’d found that was usually enough to keep him warm. His fists closed as he drifted off, both taking a firm hold of my shirt before he was asleep. I wondered if that was normal baby behavior, or something he did because he couldn’t see me. I nudged one of his hands with my finger and he let go, latching on to my hand instead. He pulled my finger close to his face and I brushed the tip over his eyelashes and nose. I tapped his lip and he made a sucking motion. I laid my other hand over his back and smiled at his happy little grunts. For such a very new, very small person, he certainly knew how to captivate an audience.  
  
         “What are you humming?”  
  
        I glanced up and Aeva was watching me, a small smile on her face. She tilted her head to the side and repeated her question.  
  
         “I didn’t realize I was,” I replied. “Do I do it often?”  
  
         “Whenever you have him,” she said, nodding at Phoenix. “It sounds like a lullaby.”  
  
         “I’ll have to pay attention next time I do it. I’ll tell you as soon as I know.”  
  
         “I like how it sounds,” she said, reclining in the sun. “So does he.”  
  
        She’d closed her eyes, so I was afforded at least a few seconds to stare at her. She was lovely. The sun on her skin brought out the brown tones and it made her hair shine, rich and dark. Her fan of black eyelashes rested gently on her cheek, her full brows slightly raised. She was leaning against the wall with her feet crossed at the ankles and her hands folded over her middle. Her scent grew stronger as she sunned herself and I breathed it in, smiling at how it mixed with Phoenix’s. Her gentle, dark eyes opened slowly and I let her catch me looking.  
  
         “What do you want?” She asked, smiling.  
  
         “Nothing. I’m just happy. Just staring at my people.”  
  
         “Your people,” she repeated, smiling wider. “You know, Phoenix is never going to see you.”  
  
        I was confused that this statement didn’t make her smile falter at all.  
  
         “He’ll never know about your eyes,” she continued. “Or how pale you are. He might not even really notice that you don’t age. So maybe in our situation, him being blind is…good.”  
  
         “I suppose that’s true. Is that what you’ve been thinking about?”  
  
         “Yes,” she sighed, looking down at her hands. “And about how it’s wrong to think like that. It’s wrong for me to be sort of happy he can’t see, right? I should feel bad?”  
  
         “I don’t think so. I don’t think you have to feel bad for him. He doesn’t really seem to mind it.” I looked back down at him and gently moved the finger he was holding onto; he cooed in response and I kissed his head. “You’re allowed to be happy about your baby, even if they have a disability. There’s still nothing about him that isn’t worth celebrating.”  
  
        She pushed off the window seat and ran to me, slipping both arms around my neck and sinking her mouth down to mine in a long kiss. Her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of my neck and I wanted to pull her closer, but Phoenix had one of my hands and the other was the only thing keeping him in place as I sat up. I had once had a vague notion about the fact that if I wanted to sweep Aeva into my arms, I’d have to wait for her to put the baby down; I had not considered how equally frustrating the situation would be when reversed. She pulled away and I was confused but incredibly happy about the turn of events.  
  
         “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I…I needed to hear that. I just attacked you, I’m sorry.”  
  
         “No, do that whenever you want. Actually, come back here.”  
  
        She laughed and pressed her lips to mine one more time before pulling away. Her arms extended toward Phoenix and I handed him off.  
  
         “I’m going to take him out back with me,” she said, resting his head against her collar bone. He reached up and pressed one hand flat against her neck and she set her cheek on his wild hair. “What are you working on today?”  
  
         “I haven’t got anything special planned. Can I follow you two? I’ll sit with him while you paint.”  
  
         “No, no,” she said, smiling. “You’ll be bored. I’ll bring him back in for dinner, okay?”  
  
         “Sure.”  
  
        She held Phoenix one handed and brushed her free hand against my cheek. I held it there and kissed her rough palm before she left. It took her a few minutes to reach her studio and I waited, listening to her move, until she had settled down with Phoenix. She was feeding him. I sighed, dropping forward to rest my elbows on my knees and scrub my palms against my face.  
  
         “Viktor.”  
  
         There was no response. He must have walked out of hearing range. I slid my phone out of my pocket and dialed his number. It rang once and he appeared in the chair beside me, rejecting my call.  
  
         “She’s doing it again.”  
  
         “I don’t know vhat you expect me to do about it. Your eyes are dark; have you been eating?”  
  
         “I’m going to go tonight,” I sighed, sitting back in the chair and sliding down so my head was nearly level with my knees. Viktor remained upright and formal in his seat, brushing a wrinkle out of his sleeve. Aeva didn’t know it, but my father frequently kept me company while she was in the studio. Viktor had been keeping watch for us. He’d already diverted two curious nomads from veering too close to the house. He’d been right; our comingled scent was drawing visitors. He also kept tabs on our various friends, always listening for rumors. He was keeping clear of the Volturi though; he had a year before they would expect him back.  
  
         “Your posture is impeccable,” he muttered, peering down his hooked nose at me.  
  
         “I am _tired_.”  
  
        He rolled his eyes. “You do not get _tired_.”  
  
         “Where were you when I called?”  
  
         “Hunting in Bulgaria.”  
  
        His eyes were a bright, gleaming red. His gift enabled him to hunt anywhere in the world that he pleased; I was grateful that he chose to go quite far away for his meals. He’d been spending quite a bit of time lurking around Allentown. He couldn’t hunt here and still escape notice.  
  
         “How did your appointment go?” He asked, crossing his left ankle over his right knee. “Is the child ill?”  
  
         “He’s blind. Aeva thinks it’s a good thing; he won’t notice certain things about me.”  
  
         “She’s a strategist.”  
  
         “I don’t know that it’s _strategy_ , but she’s taking the news well. He won’t know anything about our eyes or our skin.”  
  
         “ _Your_ eyes and skin.”  
  
         “Oh, come on!” I groaned, lolling my head to the side to look at him. “You have to meet him. He’s wonderful.”  
  
         “I have seen the child,” he shrugged. “You vear it on your chest occasionally.”  
  
         “Eventually I want you to visit and actually meet him. We’ll let Aeva know you’re here and everything.”  
  
         “You said she is still acting strangely?”  
  
         “Yes, she’s still doing it,” I grumbled, turning back to face my knees. “She’s just…distant. She spends most of her day in the studio working and then, when she finally comes back in, we play with the baby and she goes to sleep.”  
  
         “This is…abnormal?”  
  
         “It’s like I’m not here.”  
  
         “She knows you are here. You care for the boy.”  
  
         “Fine then. It’s like it could be anybody. It doesn’t matter that it’s me. She kissed me, just a moment ago; _she_ kissed _me_ for the first time in weeks.”  
  
         “I do not like to talk about your intimate life vith the human,” Viktor said, straightening his tie. “It is unnatural.”  
  
         “Then talk about my intimate life with my mate.”  
  
        He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “I do not know vhat to tell you. I do not have this problem.”  
  
         “Because you don’t have a mate.”  
  
         “I have alvays been taught that finding your mate simplified things. Perhaps she is still in mourning?”  
  
         “She is,” I nodded, dropping my head onto the back of the chair. “She’s just quiet about it. I guess…I guess that could be it.”  
  
         “I am sorry you are feeling…unfulfilled. Perhaps I could take you visit some—“  
  
         “No.”  
  
        He had offered this before. It was not the first time we’d had this conversation. He was struggling to understand how I had changed so suddenly as to be totally disinterested in a physical relationship with any other vampires. It simply added more validity to the fact that Aeva was my mate. I didn’t want anyone except her, though she didn’t seem to want me any closer than arm’s length.  
  
        Viktor and I sat in brooding silence for a long while. We were both completely still, his eyes staring unblinkingly forward and mine closed, focusing on the sounds and smells around me. It was nice to have him beside me for this; it was as close to sleep as vampires could get. We didn’t like to do it unaccompanied. Staying still and letting your mind wander could slow your reaction times. It was best to only settle into such a stupor with someone at your side to help defend you. Other than fighting and hunting, this was how Viktor and I often preferred to spend our time together, though sitting in a house was very different from the deep jungles or craggy ocean cliffs he preferred. The sounds were slightly less interesting. He and I both snapped back into alertness after about an hour when we heard Aeva stand up. We stayed tense as we listened to her open the door to the studio.  
  
         “She is coming back,” he muttered, standing up. “You vill hunt tonight?”  
  
         “Yes, at the same place as last time.”  
  
         “I vill meet you there.”  
  
        He vanished and I snatched a book off the bookshelf beside me, shifting into a more natural sitting position. It was a Tamora Pierce novel that was in very poor condition; obviously it had been well loved by Aeva and her sisters, as I could smell Frida and Lidia in its pages.  
  
        Aeva came back in through the sliding glass door and called, “Nathan?”  
  
         “In the living room.”  
  
         “Still?” She wandered in, Phoenix in the crook of her arm. He was awake and listening.  
  
         “How is the shed?”  
  
         “It’s fine. I just fed the little beastie and realized I forgot a burp cloth.” She moved to run her fingers through her hair and I dashed to the nursery, returning with a cloth before she had reached the crown of her head.  
  
         “Oh, thank you!” She laughed, taking it from me. She set it over her shoulder and shifted the baby, gently bouncing him. “You’re a very helpful sort of person to have around.”  
  
         “I do what I can,” I replied, leaning low. She leaned up, almost reflexively, and met me in a kiss. When she pulled away, her expression was slightly pained. I brushed the backs of my fingers against her cheek and she turned to kiss my knuckles, smiling. What the fuck was going on?  
  
         “Aeva?” I asked. She lifted her eyes and raised her eyebrows. She was not allowed to make that face if I was not allowed to touch her. “Are you alright?”  
  
         “I’m fine.”  
  
        Infuriatingly, there was no lie in her head. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked over my face very carefully. Excellent, I had succeeded in making _her_ concerned about _me_. “Are you happy?” I asked. She immediately extended her free hand to cup the side of my face, a very genuine smile on her mouth.  
  
         “I am,” she replied. “I definitely am.” I smiled back and took her hand, moving to set it around my waist so I could pull her in, but she twisted out of my grip. I was about to say something more but Phoenix finally burped and his stream of vomit cleared the towel on Aeva’s shoulder and went straight down her back.  
  
         “How bad is it?” She asked, turning to show me.  
  
         “I mean, it’s not good.”  
  
         She groaned and handed Phoenix to me over her shoulder. I took him up, careful not to let him touch the mess he’d left on his mother, and tried very hard not to laugh at her.  
  
         “He is precious and disgusting and now I need to shower. It’s in my hair, I can feel it.” She turned around to gently pinch at Phoenix’s legs. “You ruin more clothes than my paint does.” She kissed his cheek and pulled me down to kiss mine before she went upstairs. I looked at the little boy in my arms who was happily patting my chest and grumbling.  
  
         “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” I asked him. He smiled at the sound of my voice. “You seem to know something I don’t. You throw up on her and she still kisses you. I have to beg now.”  
  
        He let out a little laugh and patted me more firmly.  
  
         “You’re awfully pleased with yourself,” I said, bending to nuzzle him. “You think you’re so—oh Jesus Christ!” He had thrown up against my chest and was now chuckling in earnest. He had the same sense of humor as his mother.  
  
        I carried him up to our room and set him on the bed, confident that he had to be empty, and yanked my shirt up over my head. The thin material had done very little to protect me and so I was due for a shower as well. I laid next to Phoenix while I waited for Aeva to come out. When she finally did, she had a towel around herself and she was tying her hair into a knot on the back of her head.  
  
         “If I put it up and keep it out of the way, he can’t get anything else in it.”  
  
         “You can hope for as much,” I said, getting to my feet. “He got me too, right after you left. My turn for a shower.” I didn’t miss the way her eyes moved up and down my bare chest. My fear that she was no longer attracted to me was abetted for the moment. She slid her hand across my stomach as I passed her and I smiled to myself. Perhaps she was getting back to normal.  
  
        The rest of the evening was quiet. I made Aeva stuffed peppers for dinner. She certainly appreciated when I tried more daring menus for her, but she was also clearly pleased to find old favorites on her plate now and again. I liked making meals; I liked the way the smell of the foods changed as they cooked. She had told me to go to culinary school. It seemed like a waste of time if I would only ever be feeding one person—two once Phoenix was on solids—but I figured I would eventually go. She wanted a personal chef and I was working on it for her.  
  
        We put Phoenix into his crib around seven, retiring to our room to relax before bed. We laid on top of the blankets, her head on my chest, and she let out a sigh.  
  
         “I am very tired for someone who does very little all day.”  
  
         “You had a big day today,” I countered. “You had to interact with doctors all morning.”  
  
         “That’s true. Those people suck the life out of you.”  
  
         “Says the woman cuddling a vampire.”  
  
        She laughed and shifted her head so she could look at me. She reached a hand up and traced the bruises under my eyes. “You’re tired too, huh?”  
  
         “Just hungry. I was going to hunt tonight.”  
  
         “Will you turn the baby monitor on?” We had decided to only use the monitors if I was away. There was really no point in having them since I could hear Phoenix very clearly without it.  
  
         “I will. And I’ll roll the blankets down.”  
  
         “You know me so well,” she laughed, setting her head back down. I set an arm around her and felt her tense under my hand. She relaxed when she realized I was keeping it still and I wondered at how it was possible she couldn’t hear me screaming inside my own head.  
  
         _What was going on_?  
  
        I winced internally, wondering if when I had hurt her on the day she left the hospital had anything to do with it. I had been too rough with her; perhaps she was nervous around me now. If she was, she didn’t show it in the way she spoke to me. We laid together for a while longer, gently teasing each other, until she was finally tired enough to sleep. She changed into her pajamas and I waited for her on the bed, holding her to me as she drifted off. She still liked to sleep beside me, so she had to trust me at least a little.  
  
        Once she was asleep, I turned the comforter down and switched on the monitor—as promised—and snuck out the back door. I had taken to hunting in the same location for quite some time. The ground still hadn’t thawed, but it was coming soon. Wildcats were out in storm, hungry and irritated. After I had caught my fill, I walked slowly through the trees, ready to speak to Viktor again. He was waiting patiently for me right in the center of Jaime’s clearing.  
  
         “You hunt qvikly,” he commented, giving me a cursory glance.  
  
         “Food is easy to find out here.”  
  
         “Any luck vith the human?”  
  
         “You need to start calling her Aeva,” I sighed, standing beside him to stare out over the water. “And no. She’s still impossibly strange. Any news?”  
  
         “Very little,” he replied. “The Volturi remain sedentary; nothing has been causing them any concern, for vhich ve should be grateful. A small cluster of newborns popped up in London, but they vere taken care of immediately. Someone has created a companion, but did not teach them how to properly drain a human. It has been rectified.”  
  
         “Did you help?”  
  
         “I do not like newborns,” he scoffed. “They are too rough on clothing. I did run into Alistair though.”  
  
         “And how is he?”  
  
         “Miserable.”  
  
         “I’m glad he never changes,” I laughed, thinking of the raggedy old vampire. Viktor and I had met many different vampires in our time as nomads. His gift made it easy to keep in contact with them. For as unsettling as he was to humans, he was well liked among our kind.  
  
         “Why do you keep coming here?” He asked, peering around us. I had kept the clearing meticulously clean ever since Jaime passed. It was a nice place to stay after I had hunted.  
  
         “There’s food here,” I shrugged. “And I like how it looks.” I followed my father’s gaze, taking in the tall trees and the rocky cliff face. The water below was covered with a thin, level sheet of ice that reflected the sky above almost exactly.  
  
         “I’m going to build a house here,” I said, blurting it out as soon as I’d decided. Viktor looked at me out of the side of his eyes.  
  
         “Ve have houses all over. Vhy here?”  
  
         “ _You_ have houses all over,” I corrected. “I want to build one here because Aeva and her father always talked about it. Plus, if we lived here, we could stay for more than a few years. It’s very out of the way.”  
  
         “Is this area not a camp ground for humans?”  
  
         “We’ll buy the forest.”  
  
         “Call it a nature preserve.”  
  
        Viktor spoke about money the same way I did: like it was nothing. And it wasn’t; not to us. What did he care if I used it to buy a forest? He would probably have liked to have his name attached to a nature preserve.  
  
         “We’ll call it the Evanov Range.”  
  
         “Good,” he replied, smirking. I had guessed correctly. “How big vill this house be?”  
  
         “Massive.”  
  
         “Naturally.”  
  
         “How long do you think it will take?”  
  
         “After designs…seven months or so, but I’ll need time to secure the land. How are you planning to complete the designs, by the vay? You are not an engineer like Cullen’s boys.”  
  
         “We know architects. Would you sneak me out of the house to meet with them?”  
  
         “Oh, so you vill _not_ be informing the human of your plans,” he chuckled. “Are you getting bored? Now you must create secret missions?”  
  
         “It’ll be a surprise.”  
  
        He sighed and clasped his hands behind his back. This was another show of irritation, as most of his gestures around me were, but it was amused irritation. _Viktor_ was bored; he would enjoy the project.  
  
         “I vill find someone,” he muttered. “Now, shall I take you home?”  
  
         “No, I’ll run.”  
  
         “Very vell. Good night, Nataniel.” He touched my shoulder before he left. He had become remarkably affectionate ever since I had forced him to hug me.  
  
        As I ran back home, ideas swirled in my head. What should the house in the clearing look like? What should it have? Aeva had told me on one of the first nights she stayed with me that her father had joked that he wished she’d been able to walk out over the water. I instantly pictured a deck, wide and sprawling, hanging off the cliff. Viktor was right, I was not an engineer, but I knew Aeva. I could simply picture her and images of a house started to form around her.  
  
        She had wanted something simple for our first home; she would try and talk me out of my extravagent plan if she knew about it. But for this new home, I wanted to decide a few things. Perhaps she would hate it and never want to live there. Perhaps it would be a summer home for her and her entire family to visit. It didn’t matter to me; I just wanted to give her something. I wanted to share with her and her family. I had so much that I had no use for and they struggled. Maria had barely allowed me to pay for Jaime’s funeral; she didn’t want to, but I could see the relief in her face when I insisted. She would never let me take the family’s accounts the way I wanted to. I was just her daughter’s…boyfriend.  
  
        I had stumbled over my words in my head ever since the baby was born. I caught myself again and again looking from Phoenix to his mother and thinking, _my son and my wife_. She wasn’t my wife though. She was my mate, which seemed a much deeper and more substantial bond to me than any sort of legally binding title. The word ‘mate’ was how vampires described the love of their lives. ‘Mate’ was how they claimed them and declared it to others. But the more time I spent with her, the more human Aeva made me feel. Even her little daily rejections had forced a bizarre reaction out of me.  
  
        How simple would it be for me to force her hand? How easy for me to utilize my strength or scare her; to keep her from escaping a kiss or pulling away? It would be nothing. I could even simply make a demand, but my instincts had shifted. They had moved away from telling me to fulfill a bodily desire by using my own body as a tool. Instead, they told me to puzzle her out and to pay attention; they told me soothe her and watch her and wait for her. When I found a limit, where I might have otherwise simply pushed past it, everything in me told me to leave it there. _Do not cross her lines,_ it said.  
  
        Using my strength or my speed or anything else was becoming a secondary thought. I responded to her like a human and I found myself wanting little human things for my life with her. Like a set of rings on our hands; a way to declare ourselves to the other humans around us.  
  
        I was smiling slightly to myself a I returned to the house, passing between the trees and in through the glass door. Aeva was awake upstairs; I had been gone for roughly six hours, I figured Phoenix would have woken up at least twice while I was away. She was sitting in our bed, shuffling around with something or other, but Phoenix was quiet, so it meant she was laying back down, not getting up. I hurried up the stairs, looking forward to getting to go to bed with her twice in one night.  
  
        When I walked into the room, I found her wrestling with a hair tie caught in her giant, messy bun. She made a face, tugged at it with both hands, and with a small _pop_ it broke, spilling her black waves down her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and grimaced but the sudden drop of her hair blew a gust of her scent into my face; how was it possible that all of her was _that_ beautiful? She saw me then, when she tossed the broken rubber band onto her night stand, and she laughed at the expression on my face.  
  
         “Clean that dirty mind of yours or you’ll stain the sheets,” she teased, hauling the covers up from the foot of the bed and patting my place beside her.  
  
        I grinned and walked over while she drummed her fingers on the mattress, smiling up at me.  
  
         “How was your hunt?”  
  
         “Excellent. How was your son?”  
  
         “Very fussy, actually,” she replied, openly staring while I pulled my shirt and jeans off, tossing them into the hamper in the closet.  
  
         “And you were worried about _my_ mind on the white sheets,” I teased. I picked up her hand as I climbed into bed and kissed her palm, then her wrist, then down her arm. I got to the crook of her elbow before she laughed and pulled her arm back. She nodded down at the mattress, waiting for me to assume my nightly position. I threw myself face down beside her, groaning dramatically. It had gone so well for a moment!  
  
         “Oh, throw your pity party somewhere else,” she laughed, scooting down under the covers. “I’m tired.”  
  
         “You’re always tired,” I said, straight into the pillow my face was buried in. She laughed at me and then I felt her lips on my shoulder. She slid her hand around my waist as she climbed onto my back, trailing kisses up my neck as she went. Her arms slipped between my chest and the mattress, pressing her whole body to my back, and she let her mouth linger right at my jaw. I couldn’t help but giggle into the pillows; if I could have blushed, I would have.  
  
         “Will you stop being upset with me?” She asked, kissing my ear as she whispered into it. I turned my head to the side, peeking at her out of the corner of my eye. She raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.  
  
         “I’ll consider it.”  
  
         “I’ll take it.” She kissed my face, following my cheek bone up to my temple. I smiled as she did and reached a hand back, touching her knee. I had just barely moved my hand up her leg when she pulled back, trying to get away. Her arms were trapped underneath me though, my weight keeping them pressed to the mattress. I lifted myself up instantly, releasing her.  
  
         “I’m sorry,” I said, watching her hurry back under the blankets.  
  
         “It’s fine.” She rolled over so that she faced away from me. “I just don’t want to do any of that right now.” I stared at her for a long moment and then sighed, propping my head up on my hand.  
  
         “Why are you off limits to me?” She flinched at the question, like it was an insult. I slid my free hand forward, across the sheets, and traced a fingertip down along her spine. She relaxed her muscles as I did it and sighed, rolling onto her back. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting her expression to be. I had thought maybe there would be tears or a scowl; I didn’t expect her to be red in the face. She was embarrassed about something. I took her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together, and brought it to my lips while I waited for her to explain.  
  
         “I’m not…I’m not off limits,” she said rather unconvincingly. “I’m just…not interested at the moment.”  
  
         “Would you prefer if I stopped trying to touch you?”  
  
        She looked over at me in panic, then in frustration and said, “Can I answer yes and no to that?”  
  
         “Certainly, if you’d like to confuse me.”  
  
        She sighed and threw her other arm over her face. “I don’t want you to stop trying to touch me…I just don’t want to actually let you do it.”  
  
         “Do you dislike it? I’m sorry if being touched by me is unpleasant; I know my skin is cold.”  
  
        She moved her arm so she could see me. “What?” She asked, a crease between her eyebrows. “No, Nathan, it’s not unpleasant. I love it; I love the way your skin feels.” She squeezed my hand in hers for emphasis. “That’s why I…you know…that’s why I touch _you_.”  
  
         “And I appreciate that very much,” I said, grinning at her. “I just wish I could return the favor. But you don’t like it anymore when I do.”  
  
         “But I _do_ like it,” she huffed, covering her face again. “I love it! Have you seen yourself? Who _wouldn’t_ want you all over them?”  
  
         “You.”  
  
         “Me,” she agreed, turning red again.  
  
         “You like that I try, you just don’t want to let me,” I said, repeating what she’d told me before. I had half the riddle out of her; now on to part two. “Why don’t you want to let me?”  
  
        She was quiet for a long time. I was worried she had fallen asleep. I jiggled her hand to check and she sighed, taking her arm off of her face and looking at me with her mouth pressed into a hard line. I thought she was going to tell me, but she took an out, muttering as fast as humanly possible, “I don’t know.”  
  
        As soon as the lie was out of her mouth she yanked her hand away from me, covering her face with both arms. I was shocked when I heard the truth pour out of her head.  
  
         _My body is all healed now but I don’t want you to see it. It looks different than it did before and I’m scared it will feel different to you too and once you see it or touch it, you won’t like it anymore._  
  
        My mouth was hanging open in surprise. She rolled away onto her side, face still buried in her arms, and curled into a ball.  
  
         “Just don’t say anything,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “Don’t even say a single word about it. I know it’s stupid, I know _I’m_ stupid—“  
  
         “You’re not stupid.”  
  
        She whirled around to look at me, suddenly angry. “So I’m _right_? If you found out that I felt different or I looked different, you wouldn’t want to touch me anymore?” My mouth popped open again. It was a night of surprises for me. She turned red for the third time and rolled onto her belly, now burying _her_ face in a pillow. It was tough to make out what she said, but I managed.  
  
         “I’m not right, am I?”  
  
         “No,” I said, stroking her hair. “You’re not right.”  
  
        She turned her head to look at me and said, “But what if it’s _really_ different to you?”  
  
         “If I may remind you,” I replied, smiling gently. “Our current plan is that you will stay human with the baby, barring some sort of emergency. I am going to be with you for the rest of your life; eventually, you will look different.”  
  
         “But that’s aging!” She protested. “That’s slow! I’ll have time to acclimate to that. This is …my body just looks different than it did before the baby. And I’ve even been waiting, I’m all healed! This is just…what I look like now.”  
  
         “It’s been four months.”  
  
         “Yeah, four whole _months_!”  
  
         “You’re so impatient, you humans,” I laughed, brushing her hair out of her face. “But I understand. Just let me know when you feel differently.”  
  
         “What if I never feel like that, though? What if I never feel like you can see me again and I spend the rest of my life with the most beautiful person in the world in my bed and I never do anything about it?”  
  
         “That would be disappointing.” My response earned me half a smile.  
  
         “So what do we do?”  
  
         “We figure it out,” I replied, rolling onto my back. I patted my stomach, showing her where I wanted her to sit and her eyes went wide.  
  
         “Absolutely not,” she balked. “Are you kidding me? What did I just go through _actual_ agony trying to tell you?”  
  
         “Get up here,” I commanded. “Trust me.”  
  
         “No, you’re insane. We’re going to bed.”  
  
         “What’s the worst that could happen?”  
  
        She paused. “…What?”  
  
         “What is the actual, genuine, _worst_ outcome you can think of for what I’m asking you to do?”  
  
         “You could…you could…prove me right! You could agree with me that I look different; that I look worse. You could not like how I look.”  
  
         “And what would you do if that was the case?”  
  
         “I would…cry, probably. A lot.”  
  
         “And then? What happens after you stop crying?”  
  
         “I’d call my mom.”  
  
         “ _After_ you call Maria,” I said, rolling my eyes.  
  
         “I would be mad at you and I wouldn’t let you see my body anymore, because you were a jerk about it.”  
  
         “Can you live with that? With me offending you? How long would you be offended?”  
  
         “Until…I forgave you.”  
  
         “Then what?”  
  
         “Then you could have another try.” She reflected on what she’d just said for a minute before folding her arms and glaring at me. “What’s your stupid point?” she huffed. I was winning.  
  
         “Your worst case scenario isn’t that bad, is it?”  
  
        She narrowed her eyes into slits and pressed her mouth into a tight line. “No.”  
  
         “Then. Get. Up. Here.” I punctuated each word with a tap on my stomach. She let out a frustrated little grunt before crawling across the bed and climbing over me so that she was seated on my hips, straddling my middle. I set one hand on each of her legs.  
  
         “Now what?” she snapped, arms still folded tight.  
  
         “Show me.”  
  
         “Just…show you?” She laughed, incredulous. “That’s the stupidest…that’s ridiculous…I’m not doing…”  
  
         “Go for it. I’m ready.”  
  
        She was trying to stay angry; she was trying _so_ hard, but I saw her cracking. I saw the twitch at the corner of her mouth. “You’re an idiot.”  
  
         “Yes, and I’ve also got a beautiful girl sitting on top of me right now, so if you don’t mind…”  
  
        Her smile was short—she caught it and buried it almost immediately—but it was there. For just a fraction of a second, it was there: I had her. It took a few more moments of staring, but she moved her hands down to the hem of her sleep shirt. I thought she would pull it off, but she went fast and flashed me instead. I burst out laughing.  
  
         “This is worse than what I thought!” She yelled, thumping her hand harmlessly against my chest. “You’re awful! I’m not doing this anymore.” She slid off of me and I let her go; I was still laughing and I could see her trying to hide her smile as she went for the covers again.  
  
         “No, no, no,” I said, following her as she went. “No, I’m sorry I laughed. You just surprised me. You’re funny.” I wrapped my arms around her middle and pulled her to me, my chest against her back and my lips resting on her shoulder. “You make me laugh when you do silly things.”  
  
         “I didn’t do anything _silly_.”  
  
         “You flashed me.”  
  
        She snorted and put a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling. “I flashed you,” she agreed, shaking against me when she couldn’t stop laughing. I trailed kissed from her shoulder to her cheek.  
  
         “I definitely offended you, but I think you’ve forgiven me. Can I try again?”  
  
        She sighed and rolled her eyes, but nodded. I moved her so that now she was lying down and I was straddling her, careful not to actually let her feel any of my weight. Crushing her seemed counterproductive.  
  
         “Alright,” I said, looking down at her with my hands on my hips. “Show me the worst of it. What’s the part you’re sure I’ll hate; let’s just get it out of the way.”  
  
         “I loathe you, I truly do,” she laughed. I saw the lie in her head and it made me smile. “But fine, if you insist on _torturing_ me, here it is.” She flipped up the bottom of her shirt so I could see her belly. Her skin was the same smooth, rich caramel color as the rest of her; there were three faint stretch marks, but aside from those, there were no blemishes of any kind.  
  
         “What am I looking at?”  
  
         “At _this_ ,” she laughed, slapping a hand against it. I didn’t like how rough she was with herself. “Look at it. It puffs up like that, even when I’m laying down. It didn’t used to do that before.”  
  
        I could see what she was talking about. The bottom of her abdomen rose and gently sloped back down toward her hips. I traced the curve of it with my fingertips. “Your worst case scenario has not been achieved,” I said, bending down to kiss the soft skin beneath her navel. “I still want to devour you, in every sense of the word.”  
  
         “Yeah, okay, but that’s just one part,” she grumbled, finally pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it on the ground. “Look at this thing I have to sleep in,” she said, pointing at her nursing bra. “If I don’t have this on, I will soak the sheets at night. And I used to have like, a little waist, but now it just sort of goes straight from my ribs to my hips! My body is a _mess_.” She tossed her arms over her face again and I laughed at her, putting my hands on her hips and sliding them up along her sides, then around her so they slid under her shoulder blades. I laid down on top of her and waited.  
  
         “What do you want?” She muttered.  
  
         “I can’t kiss you when you have your arms like that.”  
  
         “Tough luck. I’m not moving them.”  
  
         “Okay.” I bowed my head and kissed her chest and all along her collar bone. I nuzzled my face against her neck and she sighed, and not the kind of sigh you make when you’re tired. I waited again.  
  
         “What do you want now?” She sounded more optimistic.  
  
         “I want you to play with my hair. And someone is going to need to kiss _my_ neck too. I really feel it hasn’t received due attention in a while.”  
  
        She moved her arms so I could see her face. She was smiling. “Is that so?”  
  
         “It is,” I said, grinning down at her.  
  
         “I can’t stand it when you do this,” she sighed, finally uncovering her face and looping her arms around my neck, holding them together with her laced fingers. “When you win like this.”  
  
         “I only win when I’m right,” I replied, kissing her collar bone again. “And I _am_ right.”  
  
         “Right about what? That I’m not completely repulsive?”  
  
        I grimaced at her word choice. “I don’t like that,” I said, resting my chin on her breast bone. “You’re talking about the love of my life—of my existence—and I won’t take that lying down.”  
  
         “And what are you going to do about it if I bad mouth myself?”  
  
         “I’ll remind you.”  
  
         “Remind me of what?”  
  
         “That you’re wonderful.” She rolled her eyes and I pressed my lips to her chest. “That you’re funny.” I shifted myself a bit so that I could kiss her ribs. “That you’re beautiful.” I trailed kissed down the center of her abdomen, sliding my hands along her sides that she didn’t think curved in enough, and running my mouth over her stomach that she thought curved too much. “That you’re loved, and adored, and lusted after.”  
  
        She laughed and stuck her arms out toward me, asking me to lay back down. I obliged her and settled my head against her chest, tucked under her chin. She threaded both hands through my hair, tangling all ten fingers in my curls before sighing, “You paraphrased that from a movie.”  
  
         “I did not.”  
  
         “Did you steal it from a greeting card then?” I laughed again and it shook her slightly because of my position; the movement coaxed a giggle out of her as well. I lifted my head so I was staring straight down at her.  
  
         “You had a baby four months ago. Can you cut yourself some slack?”  
  
         “Fine. Can you just let me think what I think about myself though?”  
  
         “I can, if you promise to let _me_ decide what I do and do not like.”  
  
         “But you’re _always_ going to like me.”  
  
        I grinned and kissed her. “Yes. So you don’t have to worry about it.”  
  
         “Okay, negotiations complete, please come here,” she demanded, pulling me even closer. “Actually, get off me first. This position makes my job harder.”  
  
         “Your job?” I asked, rolling onto my side and pulling her with me. She smiled and reached up, pressing her mouth to the skin right below my jaw. She left a smoldering line of kisses all the way down to my collar bone.  
  
         “Oh. Oh, I see.”  
  
        She pulled her mouth up to mine and, for the first time since Phoenix’s birth, she let me hold her against me. I hooked her leg over my hip and smiled against her skin, reveling in her heat and her scent. I was glad I’d taken the human route to get here; her affection tasted better when it was earned. We were still busy with each other when Phoenix finally woke up again.  
  
        I had my mouth pressed against her neck as I whispered, “My turn.” She laughed and slid off of my hips where she’d resumed her previous position, albeit much more willingly this time. She settled onto the bed while I hurried to the nursery, scooping the little dark haired boy out of his crib. He fussed against me as I settled into the rocking chair, tapping his hands against my chest and arms. Once seated, I offered him one of my hands and he latched onto my fingers, squeezing them in his fists as he cried. Slowly, he started to calm down, turning his head to press his ear against me. At first, I had been irritated to be pulled away from Aeva, but Phoenix soothed me as much I soothed him. I settled as he settled, neither of us sleeping; we were both just listening to the other instead. I held him for a long while before I heard a whisper from the other room.  
  
         “What are you humming?”  
  
        The baby monitor was still on and I realized Aeva had been listening in as well. Yet again, I hadn’t realized I’d been humming, but I paid attention as the music came out of me.  
  
         “It’s a sonata,” I whispered back, straight into the monitor. “Something by Handel.” The song was almost as old as I was; I couldn’t think of why I knew it so well. Perhaps I had listened to it as a human. Phoenix seemed to like it. His blank, blue eyes searched the room as he listened, his blinks gradually taking longer and longer. He fell asleep still clenching my fingers in his, but I eased out of his grip, laying him back in his crib. I switched off the monitor as I left the room. We didn’t need it; I was home.  
  
        When I climbed back into bed, I found that Aeva had fallen asleep too. She stirred as I laid down, pressing up against my side. When I set my arm around her she remained completely relaxed, even as my fingers trailed across her skin. She was my person and my mate and I wondered idly if she might ever care to be my wife.  
  



	25. Matched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva has some doubts and gets some reassurance

###  _Aeva_

         I’d been having a dream, but as soon as I’d opened my eyes, I’d forgotten what it was. I was still trying to puzzle it out when I felt the mattress shift as someone climbed in. His cold breath hit my shoulder as he settled back under the blankets and I rolled over to slip an arm around his waist, remembering what we’d been up to before I’d fallen asleep.  
  
         “Did I wake you?” He asked, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’m sorry.”  
  
         “No, I woke up on my own,” I yawned. “Did I fall asleep on you last night?”  
  
         “You did,” he laughed, “but I didn’t mind.”  
  
         “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” This made him grin, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him. I nestled into the embrace for a moment before pushing against him. He let me go right away, like he always did. “Let me go brush my teeth; my mouth tastes bad.” He chuckled and dropped his head back against the pillows as I left. I hurried across the room, snatching my sleep shirt off the ground where we’d left it and yanking it back over my head.  
  
         “Take that off again when you come back,” Nathan called, watching me go.  
  
         When I got into the bathroom, I glanced up at my reflection in the mirror and watched myself blush. “Can we leave that for later tonight?” I said, wetting my tooth brush. “I mean, if you still wanted to…”  
  
         “I’ll want to,” he laughed.  
  
         I blushed a bit darker as I scrubbed the toothpaste against my teeth. Casual comments like that out of Nathan were nothing new, but you can’t help but get flustered when you hear the actual greek god Apollo tell you how much he wants you all over him.  
  
         I finished brushing and walked back out into the bedroom to find Nathan laying in the middle of the bed with Phoenix on his belly, the little guy’s hands patting his father’s chest as he pushed himself up on his elbows. It made me smile that Nathan could never seem to be without at least one of his humans; upon hearing that I would not be climbing back under the sheets with him, he had collected his son. I couldn’t even be mad because I knew even if he and I had fooled around again, it would only have been until Phoenix woke up anyway. Nathan adored me without a doubt, but he was also fully devoted to the little guy. As it was, Nathan was blowing short jets of air on Phee’s face and giggling at the grumpy expression the baby made each time he did it.  
  
         “Don’t torture him!” I laughed, scurrying to the bed and climbing in. Phoenix made a strange sort of whistle at the sound of my voice. When I eskimo kissed my nose against his cheek, he let out a happy screech. I laid down beside Nathan, my head propped on one hand and my other tapping on Phoenix’s arms until he trapped my fingers in his hands. Once caught, he stuffed one of my knuckles straight into his mouth.  
  
         “I like this baby,” Nathan murmured, smiling at the little boy happily kicking his legs against his stomach. “Can we keep him?”  
  
         “I suppose so.” A string of drool leaked out of the baby’s mouth and dribbled down onto Nathan’s skin. I laughed and asked, “Still want to keep him?”  
  
         “I mean it’s no worse than you at night.”  
  
         “Oh my god!” I gasped, sitting up. “Do I _drool_ on you?”  
  
         “Very rarely.”  
  
         “But I _do_ drool?”  
  
         He lifted himself onto an elbow and slid his other hand behind my neck, pulling me down for a kiss. “You don’t drool,” he chuckled, pulling away. “I’m teasing.”  
  
         “If I had your stupid gift thing, I would _know_ you were lying, but right now I’m just pretty sure.”  
  
         He groaned and dropped back down onto the pillows, jostling Phoenix so that he gagged himself on my knuckle. Nathan’s face was immediately panic stricken.  
  
         “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Phee!”  
  
         “He’s fine,” I chuckled, picking up the coughing baby and pulling him to my chest. “He’ll make a full recovery.”  
  
         “I still choked him though. I’m officially father of the year,” Nathan sighed, getting out of the bed. “Are you hungry? What do you want for breakfast?”  
  
         “Surprise me. I’ll nurse Phee while you cook.”  
  
         He kissed my head and the baby’s before he left. I popped one of my arms out of my sleeve and lifted my shirt over my shoulder, flipping open my nursing bra and positioning Phoenix so he could eat. I was happy to see how smooth my movements had become; I knew what I was doing when it came to this portion of taking care of my son. He latched on happily and flexed his toes while he ate, humming and grunting the whole time.  
  
         “We’re getting pretty good at this, huh?” I murmured, running my hand over his head. I had hoped that, after a few weeks, Phoenix’s hair might lay down flat, but we’d had no such luck. It stuck up off his head just as stubbornly as it had when he was born. I liked to style it into a little Mohawk, but he would inevitably ruffle it up when he tossed his little arms around.  
  
         We had been told by the doctors, when they confirmed that he was blind, that Phoenix would be a timid baby. They said he would be reluctant to extend his hands from his body, that he would be scared to roll over, that he might not lift his head. He did all of it just fine, though. He tilted his ears toward our voices to find us and he held himself up on his elbows when you laid him on his belly. We couldn’t be sure if it was confidence or recklessness, but he would kick his legs and flip himself onto his back with abandon. He had almost rolled off the bed once, but Nathan caught him. I had snagged him out of the air once during a daring maneuver on the changing table too. We always caught him. There was always a pair of hands ready to guide him, prop him up, or help him orient himself. Maybe he wasn’t confident or reckless; maybe he just trusted us. Either way, we were dealing with a very brave baby.  
  
         Phoenix and I went through the usual eat and burp and eat and burp routine; I did have to go to the nursery for a burp cloth, which he did not like. He preferred for me to remain completely stationary while he ate, but he was preverbal and couldn’t actually tell me off yet, so I decided he could just deal with it. I figured that eventually I would remember to grab the cloth before I started. It was still a work in progress.  
  
         Whatever Nathan was cooking smelled fantastic and the scent was quickly filling the whole house. I loved our tiny little place but I wondered vaguely if it would still be fun to live in when Phoenix could run. The cozy, quiet feel of it would easily be ruined by a screaming toddler thumping up and down the stairs. However, if he started a fire or something, we’d smell it right away. There were certainly pros and cons.  
  
         After about half an hour, Nathan pushed the bedroom door open. He leaned against the frame, smiling at me while I reclined in the bed, a sleepy and well fed Phoenix relaxing against my shoulder. “Breakfast is ready,” he whispered.  
  
         “What did you make?”  
  
         “This morning’s menu is stuffed French toast and bacon.”  
  
         “Stuffed with what?”  
  
         “Strawberries,” he laughed. “You know, ask a lot of questions for someone that doesn’t have to cook for herself. I feel like Maria doesn’t catch this much lip.”  
  
         “Mamá also used to whap us with a wooden spoon,” I snorted, sliding out of bed. “Which is not an approach I would appreciate out of you, by the way.”  
  
         “Duly noted. Can I have him back?” He stuck his hands out for the baby and I passed him off, heading straight down the stairs. My place was already set at the table, complete with a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice. I slid into my chair and devoured a slice of bacon.  
  
         “So what does your day look like?” Nathan asked, taking a seat across the table from me and situating Phoenix in his lap.  
  
         “I’m not sure. I’m finally running low on supplies out in the shed.”  
  
         “Really?”  
  
         “Yeah, all my high school hoards of charcoal and graphite are finally burning out,” I laughed, cutting into my French toast. “I never thought I’d see the day. I stole a _lot_ of stuff out of the art room.”  
  
         He chuckled and bounced Phee on his knees. “Where do you go for the things you use?”  
  
         “There’s a supply store down town; it’s like a combination warehouse and store. I mean, you can go to Michael’s or something, but my place is cheaper. They usually have better quality stuff too.”  
  
         “Can I come?”  
  
         I looked up to find him smiling across the table at me. “Yeah,” I said, returning his grin. “Yeah, you can come. Will you wear the baby sling?”  
  
         “Would you like me to?”  
  
         I laughed and nodded my head, stabbing another forkful of food. “I just think it looks funny when you wear it.”  
  
         “Well, that’s disappointing. I’ve been going for paternal this whole time, not funny. Oh, can you hand me your napkin? Phoenix is leaking.”  
  
         I passed him the paper square and he wiped an impressive drool string off of Phee’s lip. The action made Phoenix giggle and he grabbed on to Nathan’s hand, trying bite down on his fingers. He was half a monster.  
  
         Nathan turned back to me and smiled again. “Shall we go now?”  
  
         “I’d like to shower and dress first,” I laughed. “And finish my meal.”  
  
         “Then we’ll go?”  
  
         “Well I have to go out back and make a list of what I need.”  
  
         “So then we’ll leave in…what? Six hours from now?”  
  
         I laughed and flipped him the bird. “Sorry I don’t have super speed like _some_ people in this household.”  
  
         “You are forgiven.”  
  
         I watched Nathan play with the baby while I ate. He was holding him up in the air over his face and lowering him down so Phee’s outstretched hands could touch his cheeks. I wondered if the game still felt dangerous for Phoenix since he couldn’t see. If nothing else, it was fun for him, because he laughed every time his fingertips hit Nathan’s skin. At one point, he hooked his little thumb in Nathan’s nostril, which was far more entertaining for me than it was for either of them.  
  
         Once I was finished eating, Nathan sent me upstairs to shower while he cleaned up with the baby balanced on a hip. He had become spectacularly domestic. I still had some trouble keeping it in my head that Nathan wasn’t human. I mean, obviously I knew he wasn’t. I could feel his cold, hard skin every time he touched me. He was a vampire and I understood that. But he was a vampire that made me French toast and let our baby drool on him.  
  
         He just wasn’t what I would have ever expected a vampire to be. As I stood under the water in the shower, I tried to picture Dracula with a baby sling on his chest. I liked the idea of the fanged monster trying to get the thing on over the stiff collar on his cape. All of a sudden, Dracula shifted into Viktor. In all honesty, it wasn’t that much of a change to the mental image.  
  
         Viktor was _exactly_ what I would have expected a vampire to be. I shivered as I thought of his red eyes glowering out from under his heavy brow. He was regal and beautiful, but also terrifying. He was nothing like Nathan and yet, at the same time, he had more in common with Nathan than I did. It was hard to think of them as being the same creature. It was even harder to think of them spending nearly 300 years together. Viktor seemed unpleasant, but Nathan cared quite a bit about him. He seemed to know his father inside and out; his predictions about what the imperious Russian would do had never been wrong.  
  
         Viktor had told us that he would be around more often but, as far as I knew, he’d kept his distance. I was starting to wish he wouldn’t. Anyone that Nathan had been around for _that_ long couldn’t be as unpleasant as I generally assumed Viktor was. He and I had even had a few moments here and there when we seemed to see eye to eye. He also couldn’t be as domineering as Nathan made him out to be when they were fighting; if he were, 300 years later, Viktor would have rubbed off on him and Nathan would behave differently. But maybe, while their more human personality traits differed, who they were as vampires were very similar. Nathan had said that that’s how they related to each other; maybe that was how they’d managed it for so long. Either way, I was curious and I decided I’d ask Nathan to invite Viktor to spend some time around us again.  
  
         After I made up my mind, rinsed out my hair, dried off, dressed, and made up my face I had completely forgotten my decision. In fact, I sort of forgot what I was even supposed to be doing when I walked down the stairs and Nathan, who was seated on a stool at the breakfast bar with Phoenix in his lap, turned to look at me. His eyes lit up and a smile split across his face.  
  
         “What are you looking at?” I laughed, walking toward him. Phoenix stretched out a hand toward the sound of my voice and I leaned down to press my cheek to his palm. He squealed happily when he found my eyes and nose. I kissed his fingers and then all over his cheeks, which made him laugh. Nathan looked on through the whole event with that same dopey look on his face.  
  
         “What?” I asked again, standing up to be closer to eye level with him. Even sitting down, he was taller than me. I felt his hand in the small of my back pull me closer and he leaned down to nuzzle his face into the crook of my neck.  
  
         “I just like seeing you,” he murmured.  
  
         “I like seeing you too,” I said, sliding my fingers into his hair. His curls were like silk every time and somehow, they never tangled. I could slip my fingers straight through them and they would unwind as I tugged, springing back into tidy ringlets as soon as I released. It was fascinating to watch and I hadn’t realized how long I’d been playing with his hair until he sighed.  
  
         “Does that feel nice?” I asked.  
  
         “It does, but you’re going to put me in a trance if you keep it up,” he laughed, sitting up straight again. “Five minutes is enough. Go make your shopping list.”  
  
         “Oh that’s right! I need to go to the shed; I’ll be back. Don’t distract me again, or I’ll never get it done.”  
  
         “I didn’t do anything, I was just—“  
  
         I kissed him to shut him up because I would certainly have stood there just to watch him talk and listen to his deep, smooth voice for hours. He laughed as I pulled away and slipped out the sliding door, breaking into a jog to get to my studio. It was cold and I hadn’t bothered to bring a coat. As soon as I was inside, I flipped on the light and ripped a page out of a sketchbook for my list. I knew I needed charcoal in crayon and pencil forms. My oil pastels were also down to nubs as well as all my chalk. My oil paints were fine, but my acrylics were in dire need of replenishment. As always, I was almost out of black, brown, white, green, and all the primary colors. What was unusual was that I also needed more pink, orange, violet, and metallics. A few of my brushes were fraying quite badly and my razor blades were dull. My list ended up being quite long by the time I was done and I felt a strange sickness in the pit of my stomach knowing that I was relying on Nathan to buy everything I’d written down. I sighed and looked around, eyes falling on my old camera. I knew there was a Walgreens across the street from the supply store I wanted to go to; I added ‘get photos developed’ to the list and took out the film, popping it into a canister. I hated adding _another_ item to the things Nathan would have to pay for and the feeling in my stomach got stronger as I made my way back to the house. When I got inside, Nathan called from the front room.  
  
         “Come get your coat on! We’re ready to go!”  
  
         I followed his voice and found him crouched in front of the baby carrier, strapping Phoenix in. He was in dark jeans, a forest green parka, and a plaid scarf. Phoenix was covered by a yellow blanket and had a hat pinning down his mess of hair. Nathan looked up as soon as my steps slowed down and he stuck his hand out.  
  
         “Give me the list and get your jacket,” he said with just a hint of sternness. “Don’t think about it; just bundle up and let me re-stock your studio. Think of it this way: at least now you’ll only be getting the things you need instead of a wildly inappropriate amount of whatever I guess at.”  
  
         “Nathan!” I groaned, forking over the piece of paper. “I know I’m not supposed to feel weird about this, but I do! It’s your money, not mine!”  
  
         “And I like spending my money on you. Coat. Now.”  
  
         I groaned again, but pulled my jacket out of the closet. As I did up my zipper, Nathan slid a hat onto my head and kissed my temple.  
  
         He leaned in close and said in his most husky, seductive whisper, “I have the baby sling on under my coat.” I couldn’t help but laugh and he knew he’d won. He led the way out to the car, entirely too please with himself.  
  
         “I’ll drive,” I said, stuffing my hand in his pocket and fishing the car keys out. “You don’t know where we’re going.”  
  
         “Honestly, if you made me put Phee’s carrier in the car seat _and_ drive we would have needed to have a talk about equal work in this relationship. Also, you’re right; I don’t know where we’re going.”  
  
         I got in and turned on the car, warming it up while Nathan settled Phoenix into the back. The drive was short to the supply store; just over fifteen minutes. The building was a big, concrete square and gave away nothing of its purpose. It held everything an artist could want to make the most beautiful things and it was the single ugliest building I’d ever seen. I loved how unfortunate it looked.  
  
         “Come help me,” Nathan said from the side of the car. He had Phoenix unbuckled and his coat undone, holding out the pouch strapped to his chest.  
  
         “Yes!” I laughed, hurrying forward to settle Phee into the carrier. He fussed slightly until he felt the fabric of Nathan’s shirt, grabbing two fistfuls and leaning forward to gnaw on one. Nathan closed his coat loosely around our son, protecting him from the wind and I shut the car door. The three of us crossed the parking lot and I pushed the heavy glass door open, making the little bell tinkle brightly. Inside the store smelled like parchment, dust, and clay and I breathed deeply, feeling at home. I snatched up a basket and reached into my pocket for my list, forgetting I’d handed it to Nathan. I was almost confused when I pulled out a film canister.  
  
         “Where did you get that?” Nathan asked.  
  
         “Oh, from my camera,” I replied, handing it to him. “Can you take this to Walgreens and get it developed?”  
  
         “I _just_ put him in this thing,” he sighed, pretending to be irritated. His smile gave him away though. He slipped Phoenix out of the carrier and handed him and the list over before vanishing. I knew only Viktor could _actually_ vanish, but Nathan ran quickly enough that it looked the same to me. Phoenix seemed happy enough to be with me and had already stuffed a handful of my hair into his mouth.  
  
         “Spit that out,” I laughed, tugging it away from him. He screamed and gripped harder, so I had to yank my own hair out of his fist. He started crying and I bounced him, shushing him and moving out of the open view of some scowling, 20-something artists and into an aisle. He continued to wail, even when I offered him a pacifier from the diaper bag. He only quieted down when I plucked a paint brush off a shelf and swept it across his cheeks. The soft bristles distracted him and he reached for it, cooing happily.  
  
         “Would you like me to take him back?”  
  
         Nathan had appeared in front of me. I suppose it didn’t really take all that long to hand over a canister of film at a 1-hour counter. He held open the baby sling on his chest again and I slid Phee into it, putting the paint brush in his hand once he was settled. For once, he did not stuff it in his mouth. Instead, he rubbed the bristles against his face with one hand and patted Nathan with the other. I slipped his pacifier into his mouth, just to ensure he wouldn’t eat any merchandise while I wasn’t looking. He made a very contented sort of gurgle, but accidentally poked himself in the eye with the brush. Nathan kept him from crying and I tried not to laugh. He was a chaotic sort of baby, to say the least.  
  
         My boys followed behind me as I made my way around the very familiar aisles of the supply store. I had spent many hours in this building as a high school art student. I had always pretended I was older than sixteen or seventeen when I’d visited; I knew what I was talking about when it came to materials, so no one doubted me. I’d even been asked what art institute I was attending before I’d had a driver’s license.  
  
         Now that I actually _had_ graduated from high school, it felt a little different to be back. Normally when I had come to the store, I was either alone and in full hunt mode, or with a group of fellow art students. We had always played a game where we’d look around at all the other people in the store and tried to guess what their work looked like. Now, walking between the aisles and slowly filling my basket, I was people watching without guessing at what they made. I was just looking at the other patrons and slowly but surely feeling my self esteem crumble away.  
  
         The other artists shopping around me were all my same age or just a few years older and they looked so interesting. One woman had shaved half of her head and had earrings made out of long, dangling chains and feathers. Another woman had a chic, slick bob and a huge turtle neck sweater. We passed a man comparing silk screens that was just in a t-shirt and paint stained jeans, but his fingers were dyed indigo from whatever he had most recently worked on. I used to look like I belonged among them. I would walk in fresh from a shop or art class wearing Papá’s stained coveralls unzipped, with the sleeves tied around my waist and just a tank top on underneath. I always smelled like sawdust or clay, or I had fingertips black with charcoal or paint under my nails. I was hyper aware of how pristinely clean I was.  
  
         I used to visit with my hair in a knot at the back of my head, tied with whatever bandana or twine I’d had closest to me at the time. Today, my hair hung down my back in it’s natural, loose waves. I had on an oversized sweater and skinny jeans under my winter coat. Behind me, Nathan looked astonishing in his unbuttoned parka, black sweater, and dark jeans. His mop of curls tumbled over his eyes while he stared down at Phoenix. He looked like he belonged in the store. He was so beautiful and strange looking. I just looked…regular.  
  
         “What’s wrong?” He asked, glancing up at me. “You’re making a face.”  
  
         “Everyone in this store knows I’m a mom,” I whispered.  
  
         “You are here with your partner and your baby that looks just like you, so…”  
  
         “Yeah, but they don’t take me seriously. I think they think I’m a hobbyist. A crafter.”  
  
         “What’s wrong with crafts?”  
  
         “I’m a studio artist,” I snapped. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything else. Something behind me caught his eye and he glanced over my shoulder.  
  
         “Hello,” he said, standing up straighter. “Can I help you?”  
  
         “Can I take your photo?” A woman’s voice replied. “You just…you have a great look.” I turned to see who was speaking and my mouth popped open in surprise.  
  
         “Ross?”  
  
         “Aeva!” She laughed. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!” She stepped forward and we embraced. Ross’s real name was Catherine, but she went by her last name. She and I had been good friends all through high school, but we had stopped talking almost as soon as we’d graduated. We’d both just had a lot of things to do, I suppose. She looked just about the same. She kept her vivid red hair cropped very short and her pale grey eyes were still huge and beautiful. She’d pierced her eye brow though; that was new.  
  
         “So what have you been up to?” She asked, letting me go. “I went to school in Chicago, like we talked about. I’m just back here for a long weekend. What about you? Where did you end up for school?”  
  
         “Oh, I didn’t…um…go,” I said, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I went to New York with Jay.”  
  
         “Oh yeah! You and Jason got engaged, right?”  
  
         Her red hair reminded me of his and I grimaced. “Yeah, we were engaged, but it didn’t really work out. We broke up.”  
  
         “I’m so sorry to hear that. What happened after that, though? Did you just come back here?”  
  
         “Not, um, right away,” I said, shrugging slightly. “I got a job for a little while and then I, um…well I met…Nathan.” I gestured vaguely at him and Ross’s eyes widened.  
  
         “Oh,” she said, sounding awestruck. “So are you two…like…”  
  
         “Together,” Nathan said, sounding much more confident than I did. “Pretty permanently, too.” He nodded down at our son as he said that and Ross’s eyes got even bigger.  
  
         “Oh my gosh, you had a baby! Can I see him? What’s his name?” She stepped closer to Nathan and Phoenix turned toward her voice, poking out a hand to see who was there. She let him grab her finger and she seemed quite taken with him.  
  
         “His name is Phoenix,” I said. “He’s about four months old.”  
  
         “Four months?” Ross said, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “So he…I mean… you had him pretty quick then.”  
  
         “Yeah,” I said, sort of taken aback by the comment. “What have you been doing at school?”  
  
         “Oh, so much,” she laughed. “It’s just, like, constant work. It feels so productive. I’ve already shown in a few galleries and I worked with a film student on his Claymation production…I mean, really cool stuff. I’m also surviving five roommates at the moment; we’re all studio art students, so it’s just like an insane amount of things being made in our living room all the time. All fueled by coffee, pizza, and booze of course.” I laughed with her even though I’d never done any of the things she had just talked about.  
  
         “I always thought you’d be doing the same thing,” she continued. “I never would have guessed you’d have a little baby or anything. Is being a mom fun?”  
  
         “Yeah, it is. I actually love it,” I said, smiling.  
  
         “That’s great.” Her smile was genuine, but I was still feeling sick. “Well I have to get going; it was great seeing you again, Ay.” She gave me another hug and hurried off to the checkout counter. Nathan could see I was bothered but didn’t say anything; he just slipped his hand into mine and we walked through the rest of the store like that.  
  
         Finding all the things on my list took a long time, partly because I am very picky, but also because I was distracted by seeing my old friend. I was lost in my own head as I put things on the check out counter and blankly watched them get bagged up. I saw Nathan hand over a silver card and I squeezed Phoenix’s hand when he reached for me. Nathan deftly slid the baby from the carrier and handed him over; I promptly hugged my son to my chest and rested my cheek on top of his hat. Phoenix was tired and laid his head against my shoulder, lazily kicking one leg as Nathan gathered up all our purchases.  
  
         When we went to the car, I set to work buckling Phee into his car seat while Nathan put the bags in the back. My little boy yawned and cooed and melted my heart, as per usual, but I was still thinking about Ross. She was living the life both of us had planned in my high school class rooms. She’d gone to an art institute, which was ridiculous because her photography wasn’t even that good. I was thinking cruel things out of jealousy and I knew it. I just had never thought I would become _that girl_. I left high school, had a baby with my boyfriend, got dumped, and shacked up with a new guy all in one year. Sure, I had some unique circumstances added in, but as far as anyone else knew, I was _that girl_ and it bothered me immensely.  
  
         “Will you speak to me?”  
  
         “Huh?” I looked away from the road to see Nathan staring openly at the side of my head. I looked forward again and knew he saw me turning red. “Sorry,” I apologized. “I’m just thinking.”  
  
         “I can tell. Will you tell me about it, or am I not allowed to know?”  
  
         “Of course you can know,” I sighed. “It’s just that seeing Ross threw me off. She made me…I don’t know.”  
  
         “I think you _do_ know.” He caught my lie, like always.  
  
         I glared at him out of the side of my eyes, but answered anyway. “She made me sad because I didn’t go to school.”  
  
         “You can still go. We talked about that; I’m happy to take care if Phoenix while you’re in classes.”  
  
         “I know we talked about that and I know I can still go but it’s not the same. Like, she’s living this life where she is going to school and meeting all these people. She’s building her career and drinking with her roommates…she might meet the love of her life in a class! She could get a job on the other side of the country. She just…she gets to do a lot of things.”  
  
         “Do you wish things had happened for you in that order?”  
  
         “I mean, yeah, sometimes,” I said, shrugging. “I wish I’d dumped Jason when I graduated. I wish I’d gone to school in New York. I wish I’d met you some place other than that factory…like a museum or my gallery show. Then Phoenix could have come later.”  
  
         “If you had broken up with Jason and found me, you wouldn’t have Phoenix.” Nathan’s voice was gentle and a little sad. I peeked over at him to see he had turned in his seat and was looking back at Phee’s car seat.  
  
         “We wouldn’t have Phoenix,” I corrected. “You’re right.”  
  
         “Would you trade him for the order of life events Ross had?”  
  
         “Absolutely not.”  
  
         “You mean that,” Nathan said. I saw his smile reflected in the windshield. “You’d take Phoenix over Ross’s life?”  
  
         “Of course I would,” I laughed. “He’s amazing. And without him, there’s no you. Without you, there’s no us. This whole little family wouldn’t be here. I probably wouldn’t have gone back home to see the rest of my family either. I wouldn’t have gotten to see…” I faltered and Nathan set his hand on my knee. “I wouldn’t have gotten to see Papá before he…”  
  
         Nathan’s lips were on the side of my face and up to my temple right away. He wasn’t trying to start anything; he just couldn’t hug me while I was driving. He knew me so well and I was extremely grateful for it. I was grateful for him and for our son, Ross be damned.  
  
         I calmed back down and we drove the rest of the way home in peace. When I pulled into the driveway, Nathan said he’d put Phoenix down for a nap while I started taking things into my studio. I agreed to the arrangement but he had the bags of supplies out of my hands and in the studio before I was half way there.  
  
         “Your super speed is super irritating sometimes,” I grumbled, shutting the door behind myself.  
  
         “And sometimes it’s super helpful,” he grinned, pulling a gaudy orange packet from his coat pocket. I realized it was the photos I’d had him develop and took them from him without saying thank you.  
  
         He laughed and sat down on my stool, spinning to play with a cup of paint brushes. I opened the packet and pulled the first picture out. I was completely shocked to see my father’s face staring up at me, eyes wide in surprise. The next photo had him smiling, and in the next he began to laugh.  
  
         “Look at these,” I whispered, flipping through them again. “Nathan, _look_.”  
  
         He peered over my shoulder and I heard him suck in a breath. “Where did these come from?” He asked, taking one out of my hands.  
  
         “They were on my camera. He was laughing _so_ hard here. I remember this day too; I scared him awake and I just started taking pictures. He was so surprised that he couldn’t stop laughing. It was the morning we were going to leave for one of our camping trips.” I handed a few more to Nathan and he turned through them, looking closely at each one with a wide smile on his face.  
  
         “Phoenix looks just like him,” he murmured. “When you get him laughing really hard, you know? He smiles just like this.”  
  
         Nathan was completely right. Obviously, Phee lacked the heavy lines around his mouth and the warm crinkles around the eyes and the mustache, but he did look like Papá. Phoenix would never know that though. The thought hit my heart so heavily, I thought it should have made a hollow noise in my chest. I had all these beautiful pictures of my father’s laughing face and I could never show my son what he’d looked like.  
  
         “What’s wrong?” Nathan’s hands were on my shoulders and his cheek rested against my hair. He’d been so happy about the photos just a second ago, but he’d changed his demeanor completely now. I blinked and a tear drop fell onto a picture. I didn’t even know I’d started crying. Nathan closed his arms around me in a hug and waited. It took a while to compose myself, but I finally managed to speak.  
  
         “Phoenix won’t know him. I mean, Chuy and Lupe might not remember him, but Frida could show them these photos. I can’t do that for Phoenix.”  
  
         “Oh, love,” he sighed, bowing his head low to kiss my cheek. “I’m so sorry. But you can tell him about your father. He likes being talked to; you could start right now.”  
  
         “He does like being talked to,” I agreed. Nathan had made me laugh in spite of the situation. “I just wish he could see him. You’re right, they’re two of a kind. I wish he knew that.”  
  
         Nathan was quiet for a long time and I glanced up to see what he was doing. He was sort of staring off into space, or at least I thought he was until I realized he was staring at my block of clay. The idea clearly formulating in his head hit me like a lightning bolt.  
  
         “I could sculpt him,” I muttered. “I have enough clay right now. I could make a bust or something, just so Phee could see my dad’s face.”  
  
         “I didn’t want to say it to you, in case you didn’t feel up to it, but I think that’s an excellent idea.”  
  
         “I have to start sketching.” I walked forward, completely forgetting the fact that Nathan was holding onto me; his arms were gone before they slowed me down. He backed up to lean against the studio door and watched me tear off a huge sheet of paper and slam it onto my drawing table. I flicked the light above my head on and had a pencil in hand before I realized I didn’t have a specific image to work from, so I dumped all the photos out and started shuffling through them, looking for all the angles I would need. I found a set of six that I could work with and taped them up on the wall over the table before jamming the rest back into the packet and scraping my graphite down the page. I don’t know how long the photo selection process took or how long it took me to get a basic gesture drawing on the page, but somewhere in there, Nathan came forward and gently swept my hair away from my face, braiding and tying it out of the way for me. He kissed my neck and I’m not sure if he left right then or waited a while, but he had to have left because he came back through the door with Phoenix.  
  
         “Aeva,” he said, getting my attention. I peeked over my shoulder and realized the entire studio was dark except for the lamp on the drawing table. Nathan had Phoenix in his arms under a blanket and the little guy had his head on Nathan’s shoulder, giving long slow blinks that meant he was fighting to stay awake. His hair was laying down on his head and I realized that was just because it was wet: Nathan had given him a bath.  
  
         “Is it his bed time?” I asked.  
  
         “No, he had a diaper explosion, so he had a middle of the night bath time. It’s almost eleven; I just wanted to see if _you_ had any plans to go to bed or…to eat.”  
  
         “It’s eleven?” I laughed, checking out the window. The sky was an inky black. I looked down at the work I’d done and I had drawn six angles of my father’s head; four were completely done and shaded.  
  
         “What time did I come out here?” I asked, wiping my hands clean on a rag before shutting off the lamp.  
  
         “It was about 1:30 when you started,” Nathan replied, gently taking my hand. He realized I’d blinded myself by suddenly cutting the lights. He led me back to the house and we got to the stair case before Phoenix started crying. He never liked it if he heard one of us speak but didn’t get to be near us. I took him out of Nathan’s hands and started to calm him down while we both went upstairs.  
  
         “Would you like some time with him?” Nathan asked.  
  
         “Yeah. You got to have him all day. Plus, he might be hungry.”  
  
         “I’ll wait for you in our room,” he laughed, kissing my temple. I took Phoenix into the nursery and settled into the rocking chair. He had stopped crying, but he was wide awake. I lifted my shirt out of the way and flipped open the nursing bra and he went after his meal eagerly.  
  
         He was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. He was all wrapped up in soft grey wool and as his hair dried, it started to lift off of his head again. He was only a few months old and he already had such a huge personality, equal parts funny and sweet. As he nursed in my arms and then, after he’d had his fill, started to doze off again, he was only sweet. I wondered if my mother had ever stared down at me the way I was staring at Phoenix. I wonder if my father had ever looked at me the way Nathan looked at our son. If they ever did, I had been given more love as a baby that I could ever fully comprehend.  
  
         Phoenix fell into a deep sleep and I just kept looking at him. How could I have ever been worried about not having a fulfilling life? No, I hadn’t gone to college straight out of high school. No, I wasn’t working. And yes, if I had ended up staying with Jason, I would have been miserable. But I had my son in my arms sleeping peacefully (though he was a bit sweaty because, between me and his blanket, he was too warm.) I laughed and unwrapped him, throwing the quilt into his crib. I had my son and a man that I absolutely adored. Sure, Nathan wasn’t human, but that only made my life even _more_ interesting. I didn’t have Ross’s life and I didn’t know what it was like, but she had no idea what my life was like either. She didn’t even have the good sense to be jealous of me.  
  
         “Are you planning to sleep tonight?” Nathan asked, sauntering into the nursery.  
  
         “I’ll get there,” I laughed, smoothing my hand over Phoenix’s wild hair. “I’m just busy.”  
  
         “I completely understand.” He sat down in front of the rocking chair, legs criss crossed, and set my feet in his lap. “I’m often kept busy holding a sleeping person.” His hands ran up and down my calves and I was sure he was staring at me, but I didn’t bother to check. The little massage he was giving me felt wonderful and his warm cinnamon smell made me smile.  
  
         “Why are you so fascinated by me?” I murmured, finally lifting my eyes to peek at him. Just as I’d suspected, he was staring. He smiled at my question.  
  
         “Because I love you.”  
  
         I rolled my eyes and shifted Phoenix, switching him over to my other arm. Nathan chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to each of my knees. For as innocent as it was, the gesture was strangely intimate. I couldn’t recall anyone ever kissing my knees before.  
  
         “Why are you always so skeptical about me?” He asked. “Do you think I’ll get bored with you?”  
  
         “Will you?”  
  
         “Never.” His response wasn’t playful anymore. He was very firm. “I’ll never lose interest.”  
  
         “How do you know?”  
  
         “You’re my mate,” he shrugged, returning to my massage. “You don’t get tired of your mate.”  
  
         I flexed my toes in his lap, rocking myself back and forth in the chair. He had called me his mate enough times now that the word didn’t make me feel strange anymore. Or at least not _as_ strange. He talked about it like it was an absolute: I was his mate and that was final. But sometimes, it sounded like a prison sentence to me. I _knew_ that I was often boring or annoying; my siblings had confirmed those suspicions on many occasions over the years. But Nathan would swear up and down to me that he would never get tired of being around me or want to stop seeing me; it made me feel like maybe being his mate meant I had somehow trapped him. Like he couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to.  
  
         “You’re thinking very hard,” he murmured, pulling me out of my own head. “Care to share your thoughts?”  
  
         “Why am I your mate?”  
  
         He sat up a little straighter, clearly taken off guard by the question. “ _Why_? I’m…I’m not sure what you’re asking.”  
  
         “Why am I your mate?” I repeated, sighing as I also tried to figure out just what I wanted to know. “What is it about me that you’re so sure of? How do you know it’s me? Why are you so happy about it?”  
  
         He nodded as he listened, letting his hands slide down my legs until they reached my ankles. He left them there, slowly running his thumbs across my skin as he thought. He was staring down at his lap intently but when Phoenix made a little burbling noise, he smiled automatically.  
  
         “Is it hard to think of an answer?” I asked.  
  
         “No, I’m thinking of how best to phrase it. I don’t want the answer to scare you.”  
  
         “Scare me?” I hadn’t at all considered that possibility. Even after he’d said it, I couldn’t think of a reason he might come up with that would scare me. “I mean…doesn’t it just mean that you picked me? You picked me forever?”  
  
         He grinned and looked back up at me. “No.”  
  
         “Well what then?”  
  
         “I can’t pick my mate. It’s decided for me.”  
  
         “So you’re just stuck with me now?” That actually made him laugh and he leaned back on his hands, tilting his head to the side to look at me.  
  
         “Do you really think I’m _stuck_ with you? I can promise you this is not a punishment for me.”  
  
         “Well then what is it?”  
  
         “Perfection.” He said it so calmly; there was no hint of flattery or deceit. “That’s what finding your mate is; that’s what it means for us. For vampires, I mean.”  
  
         “But how do you _know_ it’s me?”  
  
         “I’m old,” he laughed, leaning forward again and resting his chin on my knees. “I’ve been looking for you for a very long time. Not consciously scouring the earth like a bloodhound, although there are vampires who do that. But as a vampire…you just keep living on and on and you’re bored so you try to find things that make you feel something. Any feeling will do: happiness, fear, anger, lust, aggression, contempt. I don’t think humans notice just how much they feel at any given moment. Your lives are so short and you cram all the emotions of a much longer existence into a fraction of the time. We’re not like that. Sure, our surface emotions change quickly, but the real things—the deeper things—those take longer.”  
  
         “They take longer?”  
  
         “The way we feel doesn’t change quickly. It can take decades. For humans, someone can say the right combination of words or do the right thing and your feelings can change in an instant. It’s so fast that it almost seems erratic, but it’s not. You get it right so often.”  
  
         “So then how do you know I’m your mate? We haven’t known each other for decades.”  
  
         “That’s exactly how I know,” he grinned. “It _didn’t_ take decades; I felt something right away.”  
  
         I rocked myself again, unable to hide how pleased I was by that answer. I thought I had jumped in too quickly with Nathan; that I’d been too impulsive with him. Apparently he’d been exactly the same way.  
  
         “What did you feel?” I asked, smiling at him over the baby.  
  
         “Worried.”  
  
         “Worried?”  
  
         He laughed at the disappointment in my voice and slid his hands up my calves again, turning his head to lay it more comfortably in my lap. “I’ve been worried about humans before; you’re all very alarming when you get hurt. It happens very easily. But usually my concern is…shallower. I hope they get better, but it won’t hurt me in any great way if they don’t.”  
  
         “That makes it sound like you don’t care about humans,” I protested. “You care. You don’t eat us.”  
  
         “I don’t kill humans because it’s hard for me,” he replied. “Not because I care profoundly. I don’t care how Viktor feeds himself, I just don’t want to join him; he often tries to convince me otherwise and I dislike that as well, which is why I want him to try feeding my way. But you’re right. I care about humans, but only to a certain extent. It doesn’t normally go very deep unless I’m with them for a long time.”  
  
         “And I was different?”  
  
         He lifted his head to look straight into my eyes. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I was worried you weren’t going to get better and it was killing me. Then you fell in the street and I caught you, do you remember? I was _terrified_ of what was happening to you. You shouldn’t have mattered that much. If you’d been anyone else, you wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have followed anyone else around that city. I wouldn’t have carried anyone else home. I wouldn’t have stayed in anyone else’s bed.”  
  
         His topaz eyes were nothing but earnest as he sat at my feet. I remembered the day he was talking about. I had thought he was a hallucination. I had dreamed about him while I slept in his arms; I had kissed him before I’d even asked his name.  
  
         “It was worry at first,” he continued. “Then it was affection. Then contentedness, appreciation, lust, concern, possession, adoration, protectiveness, longing…It moved fast. I couldn’t really keep up, to be honest, until I realized it was all just different pieces of the same thing. I’ve only ever really felt one thing for you.”  
  
         “What, love? You’ve been in love with the whole time?”  
  
         “Yes and you almost died on me before I could figure it out.”  
  
         I couldn’t help but laugh and the noise made Phoenix stir against me. He grabbed a handful of my shirt and made a little humming sound. “What do you feel for Phee?” I asked. “Is it shallow?”  
  
         “No, and that’s because of you too. You love your son. I can’t help but love something that makes you that happy. It’s the same with the rest of your family; they might not always make you happy, but they make you stronger. They love you like I do, so I care for them.”  
  
         “So if I suddenly stopped loving them, would you stop too?”  
  
         “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that,” he laughed. “I told you; things change slowly for me. If you really truly stopped loving your family—stopped loving Phoenix—all of a sudden, I would need a long time to catch up.”  
  
         “Decades?”  
  
         “Eons.”  
  
         “But _why_?”  
  
         He laughed at my frustrated exhale.  
  
         “Am I seriously the only exception to your slow burn feelings?”  
  
         “The only one.”  
  
         “Well then how long would it take you stop loving me?”  
  
         “It can’t happen. That’s not just a feeling anymore; that’s who I am. I am your mate, permanently. You could send me away, if you wanted. I would go, but I wouldn’t find someone new. It wouldn’t work.” He smiled at me, lips tight, like he was apologizing. “You’re it for me.”  
  
         I stared down at him for a long moment. He’d been hit with love at first sight for me; what a bizarre concept. He didn’t even know what it was right away. I had known what I felt for him pretty quickly, I just didn’t want to admit it. And how strange to think that I had become part of his identity. Humans didn’t have anything like that, except for maybe when someone changed their name after they got married. That seemed like a pretty cheap imitation of what Nathan had just described, though.  
  
         “Are you alright?” He asked.  
  
         “Yeah, I’m just thinking. I’m going to put Phoenix down for the night; I’ll meet you in our room.” He rose gracefully to his feet and helped me up out of the rocking chair, both of us careful not to disturb the baby. He kissed my head and left the room while I laid Phee in his crib. The baby let his arms flop out to either side, his belly slowly rising and falling as he slept. The idea that I might ever stop loving Phoenix was nothing but a hypothetical; it could never, ever change. I smiled at the thought and flicked the useless mobile, making the fat, wooden stars spin over my son’s head while I left the room.  
  
         When I walked into the bedroom, Nathan was not in bed where I’d expected him to be, but leaning on the dresser, head bowed low. He looked at me as I came in and his face still had that apologetic look, mouth tight and eyebrows raised.  
  
         “What’s wrong with you?” I laughed, brushing my fingers across his back as I passed him. “Am I sleeping on my own tonight?”  
  
         “I feel like that conversation didn’t go well,” he sighed, dropping to lean on his elbows and setting his face in his palms. “I don’t think I worded it correctly.”  
  
         I threw back the comforter, not knowing how long he planned to stand around agonizing before he’d join me, and leaned back against the pillows. “What do you wish you would have said?”  
  
         He groaned and let his head drop against the dresser top. “I don’t know. It sounds strange any way I try to say it. Mates are a _vampire_ thing; it’ll never sound right to a human. You don’t feel it like I do. You don’t know what I’m talking about.”  
  
         “I mean it’s _different_ , but I’m keeping up with you.”  
  
         He turned his head so he could see me and I smiled at him.  
  
         “This may shock you, but I have actually been aware that you’re a vampire for quite some time now.” That made him laugh and he stood up straight, walking slowly to my side of the bed and letting me slide an arm around his waist. “You’re a vampire and you do vampire things. It’s okay to tell me about them and it’s okay if it sounds weird. Our whole relationship is weird.”  
  
         “That’s true,” he chuckled, kissing the top of my head before walking into the closet. When he came back out, he was in just a pair of boxers and he climbed straight over me to get to his half of the bed, rather than walking around. He laid down on his belly so that his head was on my stomach and his feet dangled off the end, toes resting on the fainting sofa. I started running my hands through his hair immediately, coiling and uncoiling his ringlets around my fingers.  
  
         “Can I keep asking you questions?”  
  
         “You can always ask,” he murmured, watching his fingers as he trailed them down my thigh. “Fire away, my curious love.”  
  
         “What if you had never met me?” I asked, craning my neck to see his expression. “What would your life be like?” His face remained serene as he answered.  
  
         “It would have been like before. I wanted a break from caring for old people and I was looking for something new to entertain me when I found you. If you had never turned up, I probably would have gone back to Viktor eventually. We would have fought for a few days and then…it would just be old times again.”  
  
         “Would you have been sad?”  
  
         “No, I wasn’t sad before you,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “I was happy, in general. Not happy like I am now, but alright. There are lots of vampires that never meet their mates; I would have been one of them. I wouldn’t have ever known there was anything better.”  
  
         “And when I die?”  
  
         “I’ll know the difference.” His voice was low. I couldn’t see his exact expression, but his hand went still against my leg, squeezing gently.  
  
         “Viktor said once that you would kill yourself.”  
  
         “He said I might _try_ and he also said he wouldn’t let me.”  
  
         “Oh, I know,” I laughed. That was the first time I had kind of liked Nathan’s father. “But why would you do that? Would it be that bad?”  
  
         “I don’t know what I would do. I can’t imagine what it would feel like. But I’ve seen vampires that have lost their mates and they don’t do well.”  
  
         “What happens to them?”  
  
         “Some become very hostile. They’ll attack anyone and anything. Viktor thinks that’s the animal side of them taking over trying to get something to kill it. Sometimes they’ll get vengeance on whatever killed their mate and then after that they’re sort of…senile. It’s like they can’t figure out what to do. Some are incredibly depressed and some are just…hollow.”  
  
         “Hollow?”  
  
         “They just seem empty. One of the three Volturi brothers is like that. His mate was killed a long time ago.”  
  
         “What’s his name?”  
  
         “Marcus.”  
  
         It was strange to actually learn something about the Volturi after all this time. They’d been a sort of looming threat, but I’d never considered what they were actually like. I couldn’t focus on the thought very long; I was too distracted by the idea of Nathan being hollow. Or depressed. Or senile or vengeful or hostile. My right hand slid down his back to hug him protectively while my left smoothed over his hair.  
  
         “What are you doing?” He asked, clearly confused by the touches.  
  
         “I don’t like that,” I laughed. “I don’t like thinking of you like that, all alone and sad.” He chuckled and turned his head, pressing his forehead against my belly and wrapping his arms around my waist.  
  
         “I’m not alone or sad right now,” he murmured. “Think of me like this instead.”  
  
         I smiled and skimmed my hand over his back again, letting my fingertips trace the lines of his muscles.  
  
         “Are you out of questions?” He asked, teasing the hem of my shirt up so that his palm rested against the skin of my hip. “Usually this takes longer.”  
  
         “I’m sure I’ll come up with more. I just got distracted by my…” I stumbled over my words for a moment. “…by my _mate_.”  
  
         He sighed and sat up, sliding out from under my touch. He kneeled beside me, hands folded in his lap, and his mouth was pressed tight again. “You don’t have to call me that.”  
  
         “You are though, right? You’re my mate too?”  
  
         “You’re a human, so you don’t…you don’t have a mate. I mean, not the same way…I mean, people don’t…there’s just not a better way for me to…” He threw me a _help me_ look and I laughed, leaning forward to take one of his hands.  
  
         “I get it,” I said, kissing his knuckles. “I just don’t like calling you my boyfriend. I need a better word; something more important sounding. More permanent.”  
  
         He raised his eyebrows and sucked a breath through his teeth. “How permanent would you like? Because I know that the human tradition is…”  
  
         My eyes bulged and I sat up bolt straight when I understood what he meant. “Is this…you’re not, like… _proposing_ right now, are you?”  
  
         “Um, no,” he laughed, leaning slightly away. “Especially not if that’s how you’re reacting.”  
  
         “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know…” I felt myself turning red and I yanked up the neck of my tee shirt to hide my face. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m freaking out.”  
  
         “I know, I can hear your heart.”  
  
         I tucked my knees into my shirt as well and tried to control the grin that was threatening to split my cheeks open. The thought of Nathan asking me to marry him had almost just sent me into shock. My family had been teasing me about marrying him almost since they’d met him. I had been so close to marrying someone before Nathan and I thought I’d been sure of him; I had _never_ been more sure of anything in my life than Nathan. Still, I had only thought of marriage with him as an abstract or maybe something that could happen well into the future. I didn’t know he’d been thinking about it too and it was almost too much to learn that he had. He was right, my heart was pounding in my chest; I was glad he couldn’t hear the butterflies furiously churning in my stomach. I could call Nathan the much more permanent word _husband_. I was his mate, but I could be his wife too. My grin just _would not_ calm down.  
  
         “What is this?” Nathan laughed. “What is this pose?”  
  
         “Just gimme a minute!”  
  
         He laughed again and I felt him get off the bed. I didn’t hear him move, but a gust of air told me he had left the room. He was back in a few seconds, heralded by his throaty giggle. I didn’t know what he was up to, but I was still too frazzled to look. He got back on the bed and I heard a soft _click_. My head jerked up reflexively and I saw him kneeling at the foot of the bed, my old camera in his hands.  
  
         “Did you just take a picture of me!” I shrieked, popping my legs out of my shirt and lunging clumsily at him. He stuck his hand straight in the air, keeping the camera well out of my reach.  
  
         “You looked funny,” he laughed, his smile brightening his whole face and crinkling the skin by his eyes. “I had to. I want to frame it.”  
  
         “Give me that camera!” I demanded, trying to leap for it. He dodged me so fast I almost fell off the end of the bed, but he caught a handful of my shirt to stop me from tumbling too far. It gave me an idea and as soon as he let me go, I dove straight off the side of the bed, arms locked firmly at my sides.  
  
         “Aeva!”  
  
         He snatched me out of the air and pulled me back onto the bed, needing to roll so he didn’t land on me. Instead, we thudded onto the mattress with me laid against his chest and both of us laughing breathlessly. I scrambled up so I was sitting on his hips and held my hand out. “Give it to me or I’ll jump again.”  
  
         “You’re going to give me a heart attack!” He groaned as he thumped the camera into my palm and threw his hands on the bed above his head, a clear sign of surrender. He watched me with an amused smile as I lined up my shot through the viewfinder.  
  
         “I don’t know why you bother,” he sighed. “I won’t show up on film.”  
  
         My smiled dropped and I lowered the camera. “That sucks. Are you serious?”  
  
         “Absolutely not.”  
  
         He burst out laughing again as I rolled my eyes and took his picture.  
  
         “Now I have to get this developed, just to make sure you’re telling the truth and you’ll show up.”  
  
         “No, not now,” he said, taking the camera out of my hands and setting it on the nightstand. “We’ll do that later. _Now_ , we’ll do something different.”  
  
         I didn’t need any more prompting and happily leaned down to press my mouth to his. He smiled against my lips and braided both hands into my hair. I spent most of my time around Nathan grinning at him; he made me laugh. If I could spend the other part of my time with him locked in a kiss, my life would be set.  



	26. Asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan has a lot to do and a lot to lose

###  _Nathan_

         Aeva wanted to start working on her project immediately after she woke up. I had to force her to eat breakfast before she went out to the studio. I had coaxed Phoenix back to sleep after a bottle, so she and I were alone in the kitchen as she ate.  
  
         “How long do you think you’ll sketch?” I asked.  
  
         “At least for the rest of today. I want to make sure I have all the measurements right.”  
  
         “When will you start sculpting?”  
  
         “I’m not sure,” she said, pushing her empty plate away. “Maybe tomorrow.” I took her plate to the sink and started the tap, planning to wash it right away. She watched me for a moment before getting out of her seat. I thought she was going to go straight outside, but she came around the breakfast bar to stand behind me.  
  
         “What are you doing, young lady?”  
  
         “Copping a feel,” she laughed, slipping her arms around my waist. She rested her head against my back until I was done cleaning her dishes. After I’d dried my hands she tugged on my waist, making it clear she wanted me to turn around. I played along and bent down to kiss her. I was so glad she was alright with it again; in fact, she was downright enthusiastic.  
  
         I caught her up by her hips and sat her on the counter, working kisses along her jawline and neck. She had one hand playing with my hair and she snuck the other under the hem of my shirt. I smiled against her skin and pulled her closer. I had missed her.  
  
         “You are stupidly beautiful,” she whispered, kissing my ear lobe. “You know that, right?”  
  
         “Hush, you’re ruining the moment.”  
  
         She laughed and pulled back to look at me, a huge grin on her face. She liked to stare at me and I liked to let her; it meant I got a better look at her face. She was stupidly beautiful, too.  
  
         “As much as I’d love to keep eye contact all day,” she said, unwinding my hands from around herself. “I actually do need to get to work.” I sighed and helped her down, kissing her one last time before she was out the door.  
  
         I’d spent weeks complaining to my father about how she was barely paying attention to me, I finally figured out why, and then I lost her to her work. I’d much rather she ignore me for this project than because she thought I didn’t want her, though. I did want her, always, but I knew enough to leave her alone. She wasn’t actually spending much more time in her studio than normal; but she spent her breaks either holding Phoenix or wrapped around me, which was a marked improvement. I smiled toward the shed before I went to greet our freshly awakened baby. I could hear him rustling around in his crib as I made my way up the stairs. He was on his belly when I found him, not just pushed onto his elbows but up on his hands in a little seal pose.  
  
         “If you start crawling and your mother isn’t here to see it, I’m going to be in huge trouble,” I laughed, scooping him up. “No life milestones without her, got it? She made you; you owe her that much.” He giggled and reached up toward my face. I bowed my head so he could touch it and his lip poked out in concentration as he searched me over. When he found my smile, he grinned back at me.  
  
         “Let’s have you play, hm?” I murmured, nuzzling my nose against his cheek. Aeva and I were on doctor’s orders to change the way we let Phoenix play. We weren’t really supposed to let him lay on his back, or he’d feel lost. Those toys with the things that dangled over his head didn’t really do anything for him anyway, so we would have figured that little tip out on our own. Instead, playtime for Phoenix meant a blanket on the floor and toys of various textures where his hands could find them. From there, you just let him have at it. I set him up in the living room and he let out a happy screech when he found his rubber duck.  
  
         “Good job, little guy,” I laughed, watching him jam the toy’s head in his mouth. “You don’t need to decapitate it; just bite an artery and drain it. I’ll teach you some day.”  
  
         “Are you planning to change him?”  
  
         I had smelled Viktor as soon as he’d appeared behind me, so I didn’t start at his appearance. I looked over my shoulder to find him in one of the leather arm chairs. He had his head cocked to the side as he stared at me sitting on the floor.  
  
         “No, I won’t change him. It’s just fun to make jokes about him being a vampire when he’s too young to remember them. How are you today?”  
  
         “I am vell. I vas close vhen I saw her go to the shed. Is she still being strange?”  
  
         “No,” I replied, smiling. “We talked it over; she’s alright. We’re back to normal again; she’s just working on a project.”  
  
         “Vhat is she doing?”  
  
         “She’s going to sculpt Jaime,” I replied, turning back to Phoenix and pressing a plush sheep into his hands. He bit the sheep’s head as well. “She wants Phoenix to be able to see what he looked like.”  
  
         “Good, that vill distract her vhile you build your house.”  
  
         “It’s only one sculpture,” I laughed. “She works quick.”  
  
         “Then perhaps you should offer her a larger challenge.”  
  
         I turned back around to look at him and he yanked his pocket square out just to aggressively refold it. He was very irritated about something and, for once, it wasn’t me. Once his handkerchief was properly arranged, he glared at me. I raised my eyebrows in a silent question and he snarled.  
  
         “Evanov Range is proving more difficult to procure than I vould like.”  
  
         “I told you about that two days ago. Have you already tried to buy the forest?”  
  
         “Yes, and there is an inordinate amount of red tape. I thought I vould be able to procure it vithin vone or two months. It vill take more time.”  
  
         “How much more time?”  
  
         “Five months,” he snapped. “Fucking bureaucrats.”  
  
         “So then…what? Five months to get the land…”  
  
         “…another month to rezone the clearing…”  
  
         “…and then six to seven months to build the house. A little more than a year for the whole process.”  
  
         “How long do you plan to vork vith the architect?”  
  
         “Can’t I do that while you work on the forest?”  
  
         “Add another month to your estimate.”  
  
         “I was being optimistic,” I replied, growing just a little irritated with him. “But okay, a year and a two months at best. But realistically…a year and a half.”  
  
         “Probably.”  
  
         “I’m going to marry Aeva.”  
  
         He stared at me, face utterly unchanging, for a full ten minutes. I had no idea why I’d just said that to him. I had no idea when I’d actually decided I was going to propose. There were a lot of questions rushing through my head but the loudest one of all was _What the hell is Viktor going to do_?  
  
         Phoenix drooled on his toys and burbled, completely unaware of the fact that two vampires were potentially seconds away from brawling right in front of him. I hoped Viktor would at least have the decency to move us somewhere else.  
  
         “You…” he said, voice very flat. “You are going to marry Aeva.”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         He closed his eyes, expression still unsettlingly neutral. “Vhen?”  
  
         “I don’t know. I just know I want to ask her soon.”  
  
         He was silent again.  
  
         “Viktor, what are you doing?” I demanded. “What are you thinking?”  
  
         “She is your mate, and so I suppose it…makes sense. I just don’t understand vhy…”  
  
         “She’s human. It’s what humans do.”  
  
         “So this is to placate her?”  
  
         “No, I want to do it too. I…I just wanted you to know.”  
  
         “Do not tell any vampires. For all our sakes.”  
  
         “Okay.”  
  
         “Congratulations.”  
  
         That actually made me laugh and the shadow of a smirk passed over his face.  
  
         “You’re not going to fight me on this?” I asked.  
  
         “There is no point, I think, in trying,” he said, punctuating it with a small shrug. “She is your mate; that’s clear enough. I can see how changed you are. Realistically, vhat can I do to stop this?”  
  
         “I think you’re coming around to her.”  
  
         “She has certainly added new and exciting components to our lives, like buying forest ranges and lying to our overlords.”  
  
         “Yeah, you’re definitely coming around.”  
  
         He rolled his eyes, but his smirk appeared again. I thought he would disappear then, but he stayed. I turned back to Phoenix, who had stumbled upon a rubber teething ring and gotten it stuck around his arm. He seemed determined to get it off himself, but only managed to flip over onto his back.  
  
         “You’ll get there,” I laughed, righting him and sliding the ring off. “Keep trying. You’ll master basic motor skills soon.” Phoenix settled for jamming the teething ring in his mouth; at least this time that’s what the toy was actually meant for.  
  
         “Hey, Viktor,” I said, not bothering to turn around.  
  
         “Hm?”  
  
         “I need a book.”  
  
         “I am trying to rest.”  
  
         “Rest after you get me my book.”  
  
         “Vhat book do you vant?”  
  
         “History. Years 1714-1830.”  
  
         “Ah, the Georgian Era. Ve lived in Italy then, but they sent us to London all the time. Do you remember vhen—“  
  
         “Can you reminisce after you get what I’m asking for?”  
  
         “Occasionally you are tolerable, but there are many days vhen I vould like nothing more than to gouge—“  
  
         He didn’t finish his thought before he vanished. I might have felt bad for being so rude if I didn’t know that he truly never minded running errands. His gift was absolutely second nature to him, so being asked to pick something up or take me somewhere was not an inconvenience in his mind, despite his halfhearted protests. Those were mostly just to bother me, anyway. He returned a few minutes later and tossed me a hardcover volume.  
  
         “I vas told the entire set is on sale, if you vant it,” he sighed, sitting back down in the chair he’d left. “So be sure to consider that. Sale lasts until next month.”  
  
         “Aw, you bought it,” I laughed, turning the book right side around and flipping it open. Normally, Viktor stole things. It was a nice gesture that this had been an actual purchase, but I did not need a full, in depth history of England and eastern Europe; I only needed the Georgian Era. If I were buying Aeva any other sort of jewelry, I would have had it custom made or at the very least sought it out in person, but not this. I wanted to give her a ring that would remind her of me, so I needed an antique. I dug through pages and pages of information and photos while Phoenix grumbled and kicked on his blanket and Viktor stared off into space. It was oddly soothing to have them both in the same room.  
  
         After a while, Phoenix laid his head down on his arms and yawned, a clear sign that he’d had enough playtime. I hadn’t needed to sleep in a very long time, but it seemed to be my little boy’s favorite pastime. I leaned over and brushed his toys onto the carpet so I could wrap him in the blanket. Once he was fully bundled, I moved us both over to the chair beside Viktor, Phoenix sleeping on my chest and book balanced on my knees. Finding a ring worthy of the woman in the studio was more difficult than I might have guessed. I also had no idea what the house I wanted to build should look like. I didn’t have any idea of who I would trust to design the house either. There was a tight, uncomfortable feeling in my chest over it; I couldn’t quite describe the emotion, but I hadn’t felt it for a long time and I wasn’t enjoying it.  
  
         Phoenix moved against me and I set a hand on his back, taking a deep breath. I needed to mimic him and just relax; even Viktor was completely calm as he let his attention wander. I closed the book and set it down, choosing to quietly weed through my mess of thoughts rather than page through chapters, not knowing what I was looking for. I let my focus drift away from the room I was in, choosing to shut my eyes and focus on the sounds at the very edge of my hearing. Phoenix’s scent filled my nose and I allowed it to, taking in deep breaths of his sweet plum and cocoa smell. It paired with the noises of a cat three streets over walking through its owner’s garden and someone in a kitchen three streets in the opposite direction, chopping carrots on a wooden cutting board. Even farther away, someone was mowing their lawn and a child was playing on a swing that needed to be oiled.  
  
         “Do you hear Aeva?”  
  
         My father’s voice almost startled me; I opened my eyes to peek at him and he had his right ear angled toward Aeva’s studio. I oriented my head in the same way and focused on the noises Aeva was making. I heard her heartbeat first and then her deep, even breathing; those were the sounds from her that I was the most familiar with. As I widened my focus, I heard an occasional hum. The hums punctuated a quieter noise of graphite sliding on paper. She was drawing and each time she would look up to reference a photo, she made a thinking sound.  
  
         “I hear her,” I said, smiling to myself. I closed my eyes and just left my focus on Aeva and Phoenix. Aeva dominated my hearing and Phoenix was the only sensation I bothered to notice. I was concentrating on letting the scents of my son and my father mix. Phoenix was all sweetness and youth; Viktor’s scent was eons older. He smelled like the time and place he’d grown up in: he was leather, tobacco, berries, animal fur, and snow. He was so opposite to Aeva, who was nothing but heat, spice, and life. Aeva was summer and Viktor was winter; my son was spring and I was autumn. We needed a house for all four. I would also need a ring that was summery like Aeva, but from the year I was born.  
  
         No, not from when I was born; I wanted one from when I was changed. If I had never been turned into a vampire, I would have spent my life looking for a woman like Aeva. I would get her a ring from the year I turned twenty-five: from 1757.  
  
         Already, my search had narrowed. Figuring out just those few things had loosened the feeling of my chest. I had been feeling _overwhelmed_. How odd.  
  
         Deciding on a year for the ring meant I would need to go antique hunting, which I couldn’t do in secret; not fully, at least. Viktor could help me with that. I would reach out to Esme for an architect on the east coast. The Cullens had houses all over the country; surely she would have found someone good. I thought figuring those things out might make me feel less overwhelmed, but they didn’t. Truly, deciding on a year for the ring and calling Esme opened a floodgate of tasks and responsibilities, all of which had to be done in secret. I was incredibly grateful to have Viktor; I couldn’t have done it alone.  
  
         He and I spent weeks bouncing from place to place: meeting with museum curators, antique collectors, jewelers, architects, interior designers, landscapers, and contractors. I also had to go with him to all his meetings about Evanov Range, just so that he wouldn’t attack someone out of impotent rage. We found that neither of us had a taste for bureaucracy, but that bureaucrats liked our bank accounts. Meanwhile, Aeva sculpted and squished a bust of her father over and over again, never quite happy with what she had made. I was extremely grateful for the days that Aeva wanted Phoenix in her studio; if he wasn’t with her, Viktor and I had to manage.  
  
         “You have to keep him,” I said, laughing at my father. He was holding Phee, who had just fallen asleep in his arms. He had gotten over his apprehensions about holding him, but generally just held him long enough to transport him somewhere. This was the first time that he’d had him for more than a few moments and Phoenix had just drifted off. We were in an office building, about to meet with an antique dealer.  
  
         “He just went to sleep,” I said. “If you set him down now, he’ll wake up and start crying. He has to be asleep for at least ten minutes before you can set him down.”  
  
         “So vhat am I supposed to do now? Ve cannot valk in there vith a baby.”  
  
         “So stay out here or go back to his nursery. Join me once you can lay him down.”  
  
         “I am not doing that!”  
  
         “You absolutely are,” I laughed, straightening my pocket square. I was finally dressed to Viktor’s standards in a grey 3-piece suit and plum tie and kerchief. Viktor was in his usual black, accented with red, which was made all the more amusing because Phoenix was in a Batman onesie and a powder blue blanket.  
  
         “Nataniel, take your son.”  
  
         “Look, there’s a bench right there,” I said, walking backwards away from him. “It’s perfect for you two.”  
  
         “Nataniel, come back.”  
  
         “I can’t, the meeting starts in two minutes.”  
  
         “ _Nataniel_.”  
  
         “Meet me in there!” I was still chuckling to myself when I went in to meet with the antique dealer. He had rings from the right year, but none of them were right for Aeva. He tried to sell me on some art deco pieces, but I actually laughed at the absurdity of the offer. I was looking for rings from the 1700’s, not 1929. Ultimately, it was an hour and a half wasted, but he did give me business cards of other people he thought might have what I was looking for. Viktor never joined me, and I figured it was because he was irritated with me. I assumed I would be finding my own way back to Allentown but I walked back out to see Viktor seated on the bench I had pointed out earlier. I went completely still and held my breath just so I could watch him.  
  
         He had shifted Phee so that he was supported by his right forearm. The fingers of his left hand were held firmly in both of Phoenix’s fists. Phee had mostly unwrapped himself from the blanket and one of his chubby legs dangled in the air, his sock missing from his foot. He’d gotten very good at tugging them off. He was completely at peace in my father’s arms, which wasn’t surprising at all. Phoenix refused to be uncomfortable.  
  
         Viktor, on the other hand, had me completely floored. He had his head bowed low and I could see him taking deep breaths through his nose. He was intentionally smelling Phoenix, putting himself through a desensitization. He was getting accustomed to my son’s scent, but that only took a few minutes. Judging from Phoenix’s position, they’d been there for a long time. Viktor wasn’t just getting used to his scent, he was enjoying it. He was also staring down at Phee’s sleeping face, his eyes flicking from spot to spot. He looked just like Aeva and I did whenever we held him. My smile was so big, it was about to split my face in two. Viktor registered my scent after a few minutes and looked up.  
  
         “Are you finished now?” He asked, trying to sound stern.  
  
         “Are you? I said you could set him down after ten minutes.”  
  
         “Did you buy a ring?”  
  
         “No, he didn’t have anything I wanted.”  
  
         “So ve are done here?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         He vanished with Phoenix and did indeed want me to find my own way home. He eventually answered my phone calls and came to get me after I told him he would have to explain to Aeva why I was missing if she walked into the house and I wasn’t there. All the secret keeping we were doing was entertaining for him; it was giving us something to do again. I wished I could explain that he and I were getting along to Aeva, but she didn’t really know he was around.  
  
         I was still contemplating whether or not to tell her about him a few days later. I was in the kitchen dicing up onions to make chili, as per Aeva’s request. Viktor was in the living room, sitting on the floor beside Phoenix while he played.  
  
         “Vhat about this soft one?” Vitkor said. Phoenix made a screeching noise. “Do you vant the rubber toy then?” Phoenix burbled and squealed and I smiled to myself. Just then, I heard a frustrated growl come from Aeva’s studio.  
  
         “Fine then!” She snapped. I heard her get up and yank open the door. She was stomping her way across the yard, a sculpture in hand.  
  
         “Vik,” I called.  
  
         “I hear her.” His scent was suddenly much weaker and I knew he had disappeared. Phoenix hadn’t noticed and continued chattering.  
  
         Aeva threw open the sliding glass door and set her work down with considerable force.  
  
         “It’s done,” she said, staring at it. I wiped my hands on a towel and went to stand beside her. The bust was a perfect replica of Jaime’s laughing face and it was vaguely unsettling to see it sitting on the kitchen counter. She had it mounted on a bronze pipe affixed to a shiny wooden base. It was a standard mount, as far as things like that went, but there was something unnerving about it. “I didn’t…I didn’t really think about the…uh…horror movie aspect it would have,” she muttered, cocking her head to the right.  
  
         “I mean, it’s very realistic. His smile is very nice,” I replied, tipping my head to the left. “But it does have a certain…um…sort of a…”  
  
         “Horror movie aspect.”  
  
         “Well, yes.”  
  
         I glanced over at her and she was smiling, but she had tears in her eyes. “I actually feel terrible about making it now, but…he would have thought this was so funny.” She burst out laughing then and I pulled her to my side, kissing the top of her head.  
  
         “What do you want to do with it?”  
  
         “I don’t know,” she groaned. “I don’t want to throw it away but like…we can’t keep that. It looks like a severed head on a spike. I guess I just have to try again.”  
  
         “Well, what’s missing?” I moved so I was directly behind her and we had the same vantage point. “What would you do differently?”  
  
         She made a thoughtful noise as she stared at her own sculpture, dropping her head back to rest it against my chest. “Well, he’s too short for one thing. Like, Papá’s head was never counter height. I want it to sit at the right height.”  
  
         “So you want a shelf?”  
  
         “No,” she laughed. “I want to do more of his body. Maybe it needs his shoulders and chest too.”  
  
         _Perhaps you should offer her a larger challenge_. Viktor’s words passed through my head and the suggestion was out of my mouth immediately: “What about a full statue?”  
  
         “Like, his entire body? Life size?”  
  
         “Yeah.”  
  
         “What would I make that out of?” She asked, shifting a little to look up at me. “I work in clay and wood. I am not about to like…chainsaw carve him out of a tree trunk. I could _maybe_ do clay if I work in chunks small enough to put in a kiln, but…It just seems…”  
  
         “What about marble?”  
  
         “I don’t know how to carve marble,” she laughed, shaking her head. “That takes years to learn. Also, where the fuck am I supposed to get a marble slab big enough for that?”  
  
         “Let me worry about that.”  
  
         She stared at me through narrowed eyes, an incredulous smile on her face. “While I don’t doubt that you could somehow magically get me a Papá sized chunk of marble, I still do not know how to carve marble.”  
  
         “Let me worry about that too,” I said, grinning. “Do you want to do it?”  
  
         She squinted at me for a long time, but the corners of her mouth twitched. She wanted to say yes and I could tell it was mostly out of curiosity. She wanted to know how I would help her; I’d never shown her just how strong my grip was. She didn’t know I could press my hands through stone.  
  
         “Do you want to do it?” I repeated, shaking her gently by the shoulders.  
  
         “Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “Yeah, sure. You get me marble and tools to carve it and I’ll make a giant sculpture of Papá with it.”  
  
         “Good,” I said, bending down to kiss her shoulders. “I want to see what you come up with.”  
  
         “You’re such a pain!” She laughed. Her laugh turned into her big, loud one when I locked my arms around her and nuzzled into her neck where I knew it tickled. Phoenix heard her and clapped.  
  
         “Mama!”  
  
         Aeva and I both froze.  
  
         “No fucking way,” she whispered. We were both staring at the tiny hallway to the living room. We were fairly certain we’d imagined it, but Phee shouted it again.  
  
         “Mama!”  
  
         “Phoenix!” She called, breaking from my grip and running to him. I followed right behind her to find him lying on the floor, smiling happily in our general direction. “Phoenix!” She laughed, kneeling down and touching his hands so he knew she was there. “Are you talking to me? Are you talking to mommy?”  
  
         “Mama!” He said again before trying to bite her fingers.  
  
         “Your first word!” She cheered, scooping him up. “Good job, Phee!”  
  
         “Good job, little man!” I laughed, running my hand over his hair. He reached up to grab my hand.  
  
         “That’s daddy,” Aeva said. “Can you say that? Daddy? Dada?”  
  
         “Mama!”  
  
         “You can’t win them all,” I laughed, kissing his little fingers. “Viktor!”  
  
         He appeared in one of the chairs, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee. “Vhat?”  
  
         “We need marble.”  
  
         “For vhat? A countertop?”  
  
         “No, for a sculpture. Big enough to make a human sized statue.”  
  
         “Are you always around?” Aeva asked, looking at him over Phoenix’s head.  
  
         “I am usually vithin earshot.”  
  
         “Why don’t you ever come around?”  
  
         Viktor’s eye flicked to me and I nodded my head, but it was all too fast for Aeva to have registered. I just couldn’t handle having more secrets from Aeva; a house and her ring were enough. She could know that Viktor played with Phoenix while she worked in her studio. He replied, “I am often here vhen you are outside; I though you vould prefer if I kept my distance.”  
  
         “So you just hang out with Nathan?”  
  
         “And the…and the little vone.” Viktor’s language had changed as he’d gotten more familiar with Phoenix. He used to call him ‘small one,’ but now he called Phee ‘little one.’  
  
         “He likes Phoenix,” I said, smiling at her conspiratorially. She grinned back and then looked over at Viktor; the tendon in his jaw was twitching. He didn’t like being teased.  
  
         “Do you hold Phoenix when I’m not looking?” She asked, shifting the squirming baby in her arms.  
  
         “On occasion.”  
  
         “He can babysit while we work on the Jaime sculpture,” I suggested, helping Phoenix scramble into my lap. Aeva’s face was unimpressed, so I changed my mind. “He can drop Phoenix off with your mom and sisters.”  
  
         That was an arrangement she accepted. It took Viktor two weeks to secure our marble block while I found us a warehouse to work in; we needed a larger space, since it wouldn’t fit in her little studio. I realized I had seriously underestimated Aeva’s prowess as an artist; her shed was filling up with canvases and clay sculptures. She talked about how she wanted to get back into welding and metalwork; I hadn’t known she’d ever done metal work. I spoke to the architect about making a massive studio for her.  
  
         Our marble was ready and waiting for another week and a half while Aeva made huge, full size sketches and clay body parts. While she worked and I offered input, Viktor kept hassling people about procuring the land we wanted, but it seemed like his five month projection was right, though they had said we were ‘past the point of no return.’ Basically, the land was ours, we were just waiting on a handful of signatures from people we’d never meet. We had two more months to go by the time Aeva was ready to go out to the warehouse.  
  
         “Wow,” she whispered, walking around the massive block. “This is huge.”  
  
         “Can you handle it?” I asked, rolling out her sketches on the floor.  
  
         “I hope so,” she murmured, running her hand across its surface. “We only get one shot.”  
  
         “We can get more.”  
  
         “Please don’t say that,” she laughed. “Thank you for not telling me what Viktor spent on this in the first place, by the way. I’d like to pretend that he dug it out of the ground himself at no personal cost.”  
  
         “I like the mental image of Viktor using a shovel,” I said, going to her side. “I can continue to lie to you about where he got this if you’d like.”  
  
         “Please do.”  
  
         I laughed and she began putting her hair up, pulling it back into a messy bun. Her hair was very long now; it hung down past her shoulder blades. I remembered how it had only just touched her collarbones when I’d met her. She twisted it up and out of the way and looked over at me, hands on the hips of paint stained jeans.  
  
         “So how does this work?” She asked. “What is the secret tool you have for sculpting marble?”  
  
         I reached forward and pinched the corner of the pillar before us. I applied just enough pressure to snap a piece off between my thumb and forefinger and set it in Aeva’s palm. She stared at me with eyebrows raised.  
  
         “You can just do that?” She laughed. “You can just break marble? You’re going to sculpt this with your hands?”  
  
         “If you’ll guide me,” I said, smiling. “I’ve never done this either; I just know I can. I don’t know how.”  
  
         “Well, don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said, pulling a pencil out of her pocket. “We’ve got to mark measurements first.” We spent our first day using rulers and going between the sketches and clay models and the block, making tiny ticks all over. Aeva worked slowly and deliberately as she planned. We spent three days on measurements before she was ready for me to take pieces off. She tested a brilliant theory that if I notched various edges, I could crack off large pieces without taking too much. We knocked out the rough shape of his head and she made me stop.  
  
         “I don’t like it,” she said, staring down at her drawings. The artistic process was maddening. “I like the facial expression, I like the angle of the head, I just don’t like anything else.”  
  
         “So we’re stopping,” I sighed, brushing marble dust off of my shirt.  
  
         “Yes, I need to think.”  
  
         She paced around her drawings, hands in her pockets. I was frustrated and I was trying not to show it. We were moving so _slowly_.  
  
         Everything the humans did was so _slow_. Antique dealers took forever to respond to emails and phone calls. Museums took even longer. The architect had other projects, but she was working on our house as best she could. Paperwork was never ending for securing Evanov Range. Everything was so slow, but it also felt lightning fast. Everything was stacked one on top of the other. I had only minutes to switch between tasks that moved at a glacial pace. It took me a long time to put a name to what I was feeling, but it was _busy_. I hadn’t felt busy in eons.  
  
         Certainly, I’d had more than one thing to accomplish at a time, but they were usually things I could move fast enough to complete without feeling stressed. This wasn’t even just stress, though. Stress is not inherently bad. It makes your brain move faster, it makes your reactions sharper. This was _busy_. This was the simultaneous sensations of having more to get done than time allows for and never actually being able to get anything done at all. It made my chest clench and my stomach knot and I hated it. I was having feelings about my own feelings. It was all too much and all too human.  
  
         I couldn’t remember having a feeling about a feeling, but I knew that humans did that. They felt guilty for being happy about certain things; they felt disgusted for being turned on by certain acts; they even felt embarrassed about enjoying something or other. It was more complex than simply conflicted emotions. Humans truly did have all the emotion of a much longer existence crammed into their tiny lifespans; they had so much to fit in, they just layered feelings on top of one another. It was exhausting and I stared at Aeva while she paced, knowing she frequently felt like this. I didn’t know how she lived with it, because I couldn’t remember the time when I last had to. Being with her was waking up all the long dormant parts of me and shaking off the dust; usually they were pleasant things, like hobbies. I’d forgotten that feeling human was also a deeply annoying process. I was annoyed at feeling human; another layered experience. No wonder humans needed sleep.  
  
         “Are you alright?”  
  
         I looked over to see Aeva staring at me with her head cocked. She came closer to where I was seated on the floor and brushed her hand over my hair. I tipped to the side so my head rested against her hip and she laughed at me.  
  
         “Seriously, Nathan,” she said. “Are you okay?”  
  
         “I’m…tired.”  
  
         “Can you get tired?”  
  
         “No,” I laughed. “But it’s happening anyway.”  
  
         “I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she sighed. “Maybe I just need different inspiration. Or something new to focus on.”  
  
         “New? Like what?”  
  
         “Like…where is this going to go? We can’t just have this in our house. Not even I’m that ostentatious.”  
  
         “Could it stay with Maria?”  
  
         “Can a sculpture of her dead husband stay at my mother’s house? No.”  
  
         “Where then?” I looked up at her while she thought, chewing on her lip.  
  
         “Do…do you think we could leave it somewhere?”  
  
         “Leave it?” I laughed. “Just abandon it someplace?”  
  
         “Not _abandon_ it; intentionally leave it behind.”  
  
         “Where do you have in mind?”  
  
         “Our campsite,” she said, her voice gentle. “The clearing up north.”  
  
         I focused on not letting my face react. “The clearing? That would be very fitting.”  
  
         “I think I need to see it though. I need to go there and see where he’ll be forever so I know what this thing should look like.”  
  
         Again, I didn’t let myself react. “When did you want to go?”  
  
         “Can we go today?” She looked down at me, completely unaware she was inching closer and closer to ruining my carefully laid surprise. If I took her out there and told her what I wanted to build, it would mean one less secret from her. I didn’t like keeping things from Aeva; I wanted her to know everything. I wasn’t ready to give up just yet, though, so I kept a straight face.  
  
         “Sure,” I said.  
  
         “Let’s go now,” she said, yanking on my arm to try and haul me to my feet. “I can feel it; this will get me going again. I need to see the lake.”  
  
         “Alright, alright,” I sighed. “Call your mother. Let her know she’ll be keeping Phoenix overnight.”  
  
         “Woah.”  
  
         She had stopped all of a sudden and was staring at me.  
  
         “What is it?” I asked.  
  
         “She’ll have to keep Phee overnight,” she said. “I mean, you’re completely right but…we haven’t spent a night without him since he had to stay in the hospital.”  
  
         “Are you worried about it?”  
  
         “No it’s just…that was a long time ago. He talks now.”  
  
         I laughed and took her hand, tugging her to get her moving again. We got in the car and stopped for snacks while she called Maria. She still had a sort of stunned look on her face while we drove. I had her hand clasped in mine and I shook it gently to pull her back out of her own head.  
  
         “What are you thinking about?” I asked.  
  
         “Everything,” she said, looking up at me. “I’m thinking about everything with us.”  
  
         “What’s standing out to you?”  
  
         “It’s been a long time.”  
  
         “It’s been over a year.”  
  
         “I know,” she agreed. “Nathan, you’ve been with me for more than a year. Remember when we were worried about Viktor? Remember when he left you in Alaska?”  
  
         “I do remember that. I honestly thought he would leave me somewhere more difficult to come back from. I think he’s getting soft.”  
  
         She laughed, but she was gone again. I glanced over at her and she was staring out her window, lost in thought. “A year and a half,” she whispered.  
  
         I drove faster than I should have, but it meant we made good time. I was glad that Aeva was spaced out for the entirety of the ride because she missed the “EVANOV RANGE” sign as we entered. I thought the sign was a little ostentatious, but I was sure Viktor would be pleased. When we arrived at the campsite, the sun was beginning to set.  
  
         “We’re here,” I said, nudging my distracted companion.  
  
         “Oh, right. Right. Let’s go.”  
  
         She climbed out of the car and waited for me to join her before we started walking. I was glad we’d come before there were stakes and zoning paint out here. As far as she knew, nothing was out of the ordinary.  
  
         She walked a loop around the clearing while I stood in the middle and watched her. She was running her hands across the leaves of the bushes and staring up at the trees. I had long wondered how Phoenix understood the world; I found myself wishing I had a window into Aeva’s mind, too. I hadn’t given much weight to what an artist’s mind must look like. She was so skilled at putting her thoughts onto paper so I could see them that I hadn’t considered what it was like while they formed.  
  
         When she’d finished her lap, she stood right by the cliff’s edge and I went to join her. “Do you want him to stay here?” I asked.  
  
         “Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “This is exactly where he should be. And someday, when I’m older, I’ll come out here and build a house so I can live with him again.”  
  
         I set my arm around her shoulders, focusing very hard on not telling her my plan. Surprises were not lies, I reminded myself. But surprises were secrets and I was learning just how much I hated having secrets from Aeva. Normally I was the one everyone had to be honest with; she was turning the tables on me. I watched her face as she stared at the sunset.  
  
         “I loved this place,” she murmured. “I grew into who I am out here.”  
  
         “In a tent watching shadow puppet theater.”  
  
         She laughed. “Exactly. Watching shadows and drawing bears and carving soap ang…” She stopped speaking and her eyes got wider.  
  
         “What is it?” I asked, looking out in the direction she was staring. I doubted she might have noticed something before I did, but I hadn’t really been paying attention.  
  
         “Soap angels,” she whispered.  
  
         “Soap…angels?”  
  
         She clapped her hands over her mouth and made a happy squeal before leaping up and grabbing my face with both hands. “Soap angels!” She exclaimed. “The first carving I ever did was when Papá taught me how to whittle. I made an angel out of a bar of ivory soap.”  
  
         “I know, you told me that. I saw the carving; Jaime kept it on his night stand.”  
  
         “My first carving with him was an angel. That’s what he needs to be. I’ll make Papá into an angel.”  
  
         “A soap angel?”  
  
         “Yes,” she laughed. “But we’ll use marble. I _knew_ I needed to come out here. I _told_ you. Let’s go.” She turned on her heel and started marching toward the car.  
  
         “You want to go back?” I laughed. “We _just_ got here.”  
  
         “We came for inspiration and we got it, so let’s _go_.”  
  
         I laughed and followed her, pulling the keys back out of my pocket. I had only just been whining about humans doing things too slow; now I was caught off guard when she wanted to work quickly. I took her back to the warehouse we’d been working in and she snatched one of her huge drawings off the ground and threw it perpendicular across the front-on view she’d already drawn. She laid it face down, so a blank page faced up and she started sketching. She drew massive wings, only three quarters extended, and drew her father’s arms thrown out to the sides. It was a rough image, but she sat back on her heels and stared down at it.  
  
         “We’re going to need more marble.”  
  
         “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  
  
         Aeva returned to sketching, making all the different angles of the new design. I continued my secret visits to antique dealers and museums. Viktor continued working on securing our land. Suddenly, life was moving very quickly. I had no idea how humans managed to cope with shifts like that on a regular basis. Things happened in a sort of blur, all of the pieces falling into place just where they needed to land. After three weeks, I found the exact ring I knew I needed to have to make Aeva my wife. Two days after that, Phoenix called me “Dada.” We finally broke ground at the clearing and Viktor oversaw construction while Aeva and I chipped away at her masterpiece.  
  
         We did, in fact, need more marble. We’d needed quite a bit of it, as well as steel bars to attach the wings and arms. I continued to break pieces off and Aeva tried her hand with a hammer and chisel. I was far from shocked that she got the hang of it almost immediately. The woman was made to create.  
  
         It took us weeks but, finally, Aeva dropped her last sheet of sand paper to the floor and stepped back to marvel at what we’d made. Her father, every bit as pale as I was, stood before us. It was just like her first sketch and just like all the revised drawings that were laid on the ground around us.  
  
         Jaime’s face was pure joy. He had his arms out, palms up. It looked like he was praising the sky or the god he’d believed in when he was alive. He was nude except for a sash around his waist and, extending out from his shoulder blades were his wings. We’d spent so long on those wings, carefully detailing each feather. They were extended, but not as though he were about to take flight. This was not an angel that was leaving; he was simply welcoming someone home.  
  
         “Holy crap,” Aeva whispered. I looked over at her, covered in powdery white dust and eyes positively alight. She was happy, truly and deeply. “We made it.”  
  
         “What now?” I asked. “Do we invite your family to see?”  
  
         “No,” she replied, looking at me. “We’re taking him straight to the cliff. An art piece isn’t done until it’s installed. Once he’s up there, then they can see.”  
  
         “Are we going right now?”  
  
         She burst out laughing. “No, we’re not going tonight. It is dinner time and we have a baby to get back to. We’ll go tomorrow; we can take Phee with us.”  
  
         I took Aeva back to our house and we both showered and changed before we went to Maria’s house to collect our son. That night, as they both slept soundly, I was sorting through another wave of very human emotions. This time, I was nervous. I was silently praying that she would like the house. I was worried my surprise might offend her. I just wanted to make something beautiful for her; she made so many things all the time. I wanted her to have something _made_. I knew the skeleton of the house was standing with a fair few walls put up as well. I hoped it wouldn’t resemble the finished product too clearly; I still wanted it to surprise her when she saw it a second time.  
  
         The next morning, we borrowed Miguel’s trailer and hooked it up to our SUV, securing both the statue and the large base for the long drive to the cliff. As we made our way north, Aeva’s mood shifted. She reached over and took my right hand off the steering wheel, holding onto it in her lap. I waited as long as I could to pester her; we’d almost arrived by the time I spoke up.  
  
         “What’s wrong?” I asked, gently squeezing her fingers.  
  
         “I just miss him,” she replied. “It’ll be a year without him soon.”  
  
         “I know.”  
  
         “Thanks,” she murmured, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “For helping me move this.”  
  
         “Of course,” I replied, turning down the now familiar road. “But, um, there’s something I should warn you about…”  
  
         “Wha—Oh my god!” She laughed, staring out the window in amazement. “Nathan, what is that?”  
  
         “Well, I was thinking it could be a house.”  
  
         “You’re building the house? The house on the cliff?”  
  
         “I’m working on it.”  
  
         She grinned at me as I shut off the car, squeezing my fingers. I had hoped she would be pleased, but she seemed absolutely elated. I leaned over to kiss her, reaching across to open her door.  
  
         “Go look,” I murmured, lips still touching hers. She slid out of her seat and walked slowly up the driveway, head scanning left and right. The front of the house was still a work in progress, but the entrance way was finished. I stared at her as she walked up the front steps, gently brushing her hand against a column as she looked up at the huge double doors. I could see her smile reflected in the glass as she pushed one open and went inside. I left her to explore on her own for a bit while I took Phoenix out of the back seat, slipping his hat over his head and wrestling his little hands into his mittens. He didn’t like wearing his winter gear, but the cold weather was turning bitter. It was only a few months until January, which meant he’d be turning one soon.  
  
         “Ph’nix,” he grumbled. He’d figured out how to say his name and used it as an all occasions catchphrase. I understood this utterance as meaning he hated his extra layers, but he needed them. Once he was properly bundled, I scooped him up and followed Aeva’s scent. She had walked straight forward into the great room and was staring up at the criss crossing beams overhead. The ceiling here would go all the way to the roof with a chandelier mounted in the center. Although the stair case was mostly just a makeshift structure for the workers, things seemed to be coming along at a good pace. Aeva looked to the right, seeing the hall that would eventually lead to her studio blocked off with plastic sheeting.  
  
         “What’s over there?” She asked.  
  
         “More surprises,” I teased, smiling at her. “Can you wait until it’s done?”  
  
         “I…yeah, sure.” She sounded breathless as she spun, taking in the room again. She stopped facing out toward the cliff. The view was obstructed with more plastic, so there was no wind, but I knew the glass had yet to be put up. The entire wall would be made of massive windows. As it was, the plastic dimmed the sun and the filtered light lit up Aeva’s huge eyes.  
  
         “What’s out there?” She asked.  
  
         “Go look,” I repeated, walking forward to open one of the doors. She stepped carefully over the jamb, her boot thudding softly on the wood of the deck, and sucked in a huge breath as she went outside, covering her mouth with both hands.  
  
         “Nathan,” she said into her palms, slowly crossing all the way to the railing, staring straight down at the lake. Where she stood then was a good thirty feet from the house and ten feet over the cliff’s edge. “You made…I’m over the water.”  
  
         “I know I didn’t tell you about this when you first had the idea to put the statue out here,” I said. “But do you still want to do it?”  
  
         “Of course I want to put him here!” She laughed. “Look at what you’re making! He would have loved to see this.”  
  
         “Alright, then,” I grinned. “Where do you want him?” She peered around a bit before taking off back toward the house. I watched her go toward the steps that led down toward the lake, hoping over the railing and onto a stone shelf with a few scrubby bushes. It was level with the deck, nestled right in the bend of the house. She kicked a few rocks out of the way and turned to face the lake, throwing her arms out in the same pose as the statue. I walked slowly to her, Phoenix still bundled in my arms.  
  
         “Here?” I asked.  
  
         “Yeah,” she nodded, smiling at me.  
  
         “Okay then, just give me a moment.” I handed her the baby and jogged back to the trailer. I lifted the base out with no trouble at all and carried it to the specified location. She had climbed back onto the deck and was watching me from beside the railing. A moment later, I had the large Jaime Angel in my arms and I set him gingerly into place. I found that my eyes were beginning to sting with the dry tears of vampires. I rubbed at them with my palms.  
  
         “He can watch the sunrise everyday now,” Aeva murmured, cheek resting on Phoenix’s head. I looked over at her to see that she was not facing the statue, but was instead looking at the water. “Papá used to watch the sun come up every morning when we were here,” she continued. “He loved it. Now he’ll see it every day.”  
  
         “He brought me here once,” I replied, hugging her from behind. “He brought me out here and gave me his blessing to marry you.”  
  
         “Papá _would_ make you drive four hours for a ten second conversation,” she laughed.  
  
         “I didn’t really mind.”  
  
         Phoenix was wiggling around and stretching towards the sound of my voice, so I took him back from Aeva and bounced him lightly. He wasn’t quite pleased with that, so I tossed him into the air and he let out a loud peal of laughter as he came down. His voice echoed around us and I’d never seen him smile so huge.  
  
         “He has a tooth coming in,” Aeva said, squinting up at us through the sun.  
  
         “No he doesn’t!” I gasped, staring into his mouth as he giggled.  
  
         “Yeah, he does,” she laughed, coming closer and pointing out the little lump in his gums.  
  
         “That’s wonderful,” I said, blowing a raspberry in his cheek. “Phee’s growing fangs!”  
  
         “Ph’nix!”  
  
         Aeva and I both laughed and he smiled along, glad for the attention. Aeva turned her head back towards the water then. She was stunning; her expression was pensive and the cold, autumn breeze coming off the lake was lifting her hair and swirling it around her face. She shut her eyes and savored the wind and my racing mind shut off. In the sudden, echoing mental silence I realized that if there was ever going to be a moment, this was it. I looked behind me at the statue of Jaime, his big laugh etched onto his face. _I guess it’s time_ , I thought to him, slipping the ring out of my pocket. I had kept it on me for weeks, on the off chance this moment might arise. Phoenix reached up and patted my face, burbling incoherently with a few “Dada”s for good measure. I took that as him giving me his blessing as well.  
  
         I slipped my hand into hers. When she opened her eyes, I was already down on one knee. Her eyebrows raised, her smile a little incredulous.  
  
         “Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, a hint of a laugh in her voice. My smile answered back.  
  
         “I’m trying to propose, if you could let me have my moment.” She laughed—her big, loud laugh—and slapped a hand over her face, covering her eyes. I was glad she wasn’t covering her mouth.  
  
         “You have to look at me.”  
  
         “I can’t look at you!” She groaned. My grin grew wider as I saw a blush creep up her neck and across her cheeks. “I can’t look. Just do it. Do it quick.”  
  
         “No,” I laughed, unable to keep it together. “No, not until you look at me. I will kneel like this for days if I have to. You know I can.”  
  
         She sighed, pursed her lips together, and took her hand off her face, running it through her hair instead. Her eyes were still squeezed shut but she took one more deep breath and opened them, finally looking down at me.  
  
         “Aeva Sanchez—“  
  
         “Do it right, if you’re doing it.”  
  
         Phoenix giggled with me when I laughed at that. “Okay, okay. Aeva Maria Luisa Ramón Sanchez, I love you. I love you more than you can possibly know. I’ve spent an eternity waiting around to meet you. I’d like to spend the rest of my time on this earth by your side.”  
  
         “With the little guy.”  
  
         “With the little guy,” I agreed, bouncing him slightly. “Whatever happens to us, no matter what it is, I’m yours, unequivocally. I belong to you, Aeva, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?” I turned her hand over; she hadn’t noticed that I’d had the ring pressed into her palm the entire time. The metal was no colder than my fingers. I kept my hand cupped around hers as she stared down at it.  
  
         I held my breath.  
  
         I waited.  



	27. Answered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeva makes a choice and then makes a ring.

###  _Aeva_

         My entire brain was screaming.  
  
         _Oh my god._  
  
         There was a little gold circle in the palm of my hand.  
  
         _Ohmygod._  
  
         He had my hand in his and he was staring up at me.  
  
         _OHMYGOD._  
  
         I had only allowed myself to think casually about marrying Nathan. In the face of what he had already explained to me—that we were mated for life—the formalities of marriage seemed trivial. Why go through all the pomp and circumstance just to declare something I already knew?  
  
         But seeing him there on one knee, with his glorious angel’s face beaming up at me; his silvery blonde curls blowing in the wind; his cold, iron arm wrapped securely around our son…I wanted it.  
  
         I wanted Nathan as my husband more than anything. I wanted it so badly, it hurt my chest. I felt like my heart would leap out of me at any moment.  
  
         _I’m yours_ , he’d said. _I belong to you_.  
  
         Nathan was mine. I’d known that already, but he wanted to prove it. He wanted to show everyone.  
  
         A crease appeared between his eyebrows.  
  
         “Oh!” I gasped, coming back out of my thoughts. “Oh, oh, I took too long. I’m sorry.” I was laughing, absolutely breathless. “I just…yes. Yes, absolutely. Yes, I’ll marry you.”  
  
         The joy on his face was overwhelming. I’d never seen him that happy before and I was more than a little smug that it had been because of me. He plucked the ring out of my palm and slid it easily on to my left hand. Suddenly, he was on his feet and had his lips pressed to mine. He held me there for a moment, his hand behind my head. I could feel him smiling as we kissed.  
  
         When he pulled away, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I looked down to examine my ring. It was delicate and fascinating; very clearly an antique. The main adornments were three flowers, two small ones and a larger one between them. The small flowers were gold and looked like tiny poppies, both with impossibly small diamonds as their centers. The central flower was made entirely of precious stones set in gold: one large diamond at the center and six round turquoise gems surrounding it like petals. The gold setting holding the three flowers in place was carefully crafted to look like leaves. It was stunning.  
  
         “It’s Georgian,” he said, resting his cheek on my head, watching me investigate my new bauble.  
  
         “Like, from the country?”  
  
         “No,” he laughed. “It’s an antique from 1757, during the Georgian era. It was harder to track down a ring from that year than I thought it would be; even harder to find one that looked like it should be yours. Did I do well?”  
  
         “It’s _beautiful_ ,” I whispered, still marveling at the tiny details. “Why 1757 though?”  
  
         “That’s the year I turned twenty-five,” he murmured, putting his lips against my hair. “For the first time.”  
  
         “Was this what all the girls were wearing back then?” I asked, fluttering my fingers and making the diamonds sparkle.  
  
         “It’s the right style but this one would have stood out, even then. The other young ladies would have been jealous of you.” He bowed his head and started to kiss my neck, tracing a line from my jaw to my shoulder. “Have I lived up to standards?”  
  
         I laughed and turned to him, grabbing his head with both hands and pulling his mouth to mine. “It’s perfect,” I replied, looking up into his onyx eyes. “But now we have to find one for you.”  
  
         “Oh, no, no,” he laughed, shifting Phoenix into his other arm. “The men just wore simple bands back then. No fuss at all to find one of those.”  
  
         “No,” I said firmly. “My ring is from your time; it’s special because it’s like you. Yours has to be the same way, but about me.”  
  
         “What do you have in mind?”  
  
         “I can’t tell you!” I laughed. “It has to be a surprise, just like this was.” I was mostly telling the truth on that front. But I also couldn’t tell him because I didn’t have any idea what kind of ring to get for him. I didn’t know if he could see all that in my head, but if he could, we was being nice and not saying anything about it.  
  
         We stayed at the new house for a while longer while Nathan explained what it would look like. He wouldn’t let me go down the hall way that was covered up, but I walked around the rest of the downstairs. It was going to be beautiful. I had brought my old camera from home so I could take photos of the statue to show my family, which I did, but I also took photos of the house and the deck. Nathan and I held Phee’s hands and let him walk around a bit; he was really getting the hang of using his legs.  
  
         On our drive home, we stopped to get our photos developed, but I didn’t bother flipping through the pictures. I was staring at my ring. I wondered how long Nathan had taken to figure out this was the one he wanted to give me. How long had he been planning this? It was perfect. I adored everything about it; I’d never seen anyone else with a floral engagement ring. I knew right away that I wouldn’t want an additional wedding band. I just wanted this one. It was almost as old as my fiancé.  
  
         Nathan was my fiancé.  
  
         Just that thought made me grin. He had his hand resting on my knee as he drove and I set mine on top of it. I was going to marry him.  
  
         What could I give him that would be as special as what he’d given me? I wanted his ring to look good with mine. I didn’t like when couples had rings that looked terrible together. What would I pair with my little flowers though? The only other thing I’d ever seen in the same color blue as the turquoise gems on my finger was an alebrije.  
  
         That was it. That’s what I would give him. I would hand carve his ring out of the wood meant for alebrijes. Copal wood was grown in the place my family was from; it was the wood we made our signature carvings out of. The resin in the wood dried hard as stone, making it incredibly durable. It was also said to have magical powers: copal wood cast a protective charm. I looked out the window, trying to hide my devious smile; I didn’t want him to ask what I was thinking and spoil the surprise.  
  
         When we got back to our house, Nathan asked if I wanted to go to my mother’s place to tell the family. I didn’t want to go through all that hassle just yet; I wanted a day to just be engaged to him. He agreed to my terms and we settled in, finally able to just laze around and be a family again. I had loved working on the statue with Nathan, but I had missed laying in our bed with Phoenix too.  
  
         When we finally put Phee in his crib for the night, Nathan and I walked back into our room hand in hand, his thumb spinning the ring he’d just given me. He was clearly very pleased with himself.  
  
         “So,” I said, turning to face him. He kept walking forward so his front was pressed to mine and he slipped his arms around me, sinking in to a deep kiss. I’d wanted to ask him a question, but this was preferable. I let him walk me backward until my legs hit the bed; then I looped my arms around his neck and jumped so he was holding me. He laughed into our kiss and sat down so that I was straddling his lap.  
  
         “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away. “You were saying something?”  
  
         “I was,” I laughed, still a little breathless. “I was going to ask if my last name will be Evanov or Wulff.”  
  
         He grinned and kissed me again. “Your last name can be whatever you want it to be. We can even change mine; I’ll be mister Sanchez.”  
  
         “We’ll work on it.”  
  
         He laughed and laid back, pulling me with him. Nathan was always affectionate, but I could tell today he was different. There was something special about the way he was touching me; it was like I could feel his joy through his fingertips.  
  
         We spent a long time just enjoying one another, kissing necks and collar bones. Finally, we settled with me against his side in my usual position. “Nathan,” I asked. “Are you excited to be getting married?”  
  
         “Yes, love, I am.” I looked up and he was smiling right at me, all starry eyed.  
  
         “You’ve got to stop with that face,” I laughed. “What’s different? We’re doing the exact same thing we did before, but now I wear jewelry.”  
  
         “Everything is different,” he laughed. “My mate wants to marry me.”  
  
         “Of course I want to marry you. I _love_ you, Nathan.”  
  
         “I love you too.” He bowed his head, kissing the top of mine. He was too excited and his energy was rubbing off on me. I would never get to sleep at this rate and I told him as much. For the first night ever, he agreed to leave to go hunting while I was still awake. He gave me a kiss goodbye and I couldn’t help it: I threw my arms around his neck and made it a _long_ kiss goodbye. He was laughing as he went out the bedroom door. I waited for forty five minutes, staring at the clock while they ticked by.  
  
         Nathan was hunting, and by now he should be very far away. I took my chance. I snatched my phone off the night stand and dialed Viktor’s number. Nathan had given it to me on the off chance I might need it. Well, I needed it then. He answered on the second ring.  
  
         “Aeva?”  
  
         “Yeah, um, hi.”  
  
         “It’s late,” he said, sounding more curious than scolding. “Is something the matter?”  
  
         “I need your help.”  
  
         “Give me but a moment.” He hung up and I waited. There was a knock on the bedroom door. Nathan said that Viktor had a nasty habit of just appearing right beside him; he was more polite to me.  
  
         “Come in,” I called. He pushed the door open and stepped in, ghosting across the floor with silent steps. He was in his usual all black suit and shirt, though he had left off the jacket, so he stood before me now in a black satin vest. He was debonair, even in the dead of night.  
  
         “Vhat do you need?” He asked, peering down at me. There was enough light in the room for it to glint off of his burgundy eyes.  
  
         “I need you to get me wood.”  
  
         “Vood?”  
  
         “Yes. I know it sounds strange, but I need it and Nathan can’t know about it.”  
  
         “Just…any kind?”  
  
         “No, no,” I said, opening my night stand drawer. I had a little note pad in there and I sketched a copal tree. I threw my pen back in the drawer and passed the drawing to my future father-in-law. “I need this. Copal wood.”  
  
         “And this is a pressing matter deserving of secrecy?” he said, smirking at the picture of the twisted little tree.  
  
         “It is. This is top secret. I don’t need much at all, either. Just a little chunk, this big.” I held up my fingers roughly an inch apart. Viktor raised an eyebrow.  
  
         “Fine,” he said. He was always willing to run errands; I appreciated that he didn’t mind having his power abused so often. “Vhere do I get copal vood?”  
  
         “Oaxaca,” I said, grinning. “In Mexico. But it’s sort of scarce now, so don’t steal it. Buy it. You may have to go to a copalero for it…how comfortable are you with black market dealings?”  
  
         He raised his eyebrow again. “I am comfortable vith them.”  
  
         “Okay, good. Do you want money to pay for it?”  
  
         “I have money. Vhere should I put it vhen I acquire this much—“ he mimicked my gesture “—copal vood?”  
  
         “My studio. Put it in my paint brush jar, at the bottom.”  
  
         “If you prefer,” he said, tucking the drawing inside his vest. “I see you are vearing the ring Nataniel bought. You are engaged now?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Congratulations. Now go to sleep before Nataniel returns. Your vood chunk vill be there for you by morning.” He vanished and I punched a triumphant fist into the air. I had my wood, now I just had to keep it a secret from Nathan. I had to be careful answering any questions he might ask. One slip, and he would know.  
  
         I wanted to wait until Nathan came back before I fell asleep, but he took too long. I had no idea where he hunted; I’d never seen any sort of wild life around Allentown. I also knew he could run very fast, but I didn’t know _how_ fast. When he moved too fast for me to see, he seemed to only be able to do it in short bursts. I was making a list of questions for him about his super speed when I accidentally dozed off. I woke up to the smell of sausage gravy and fresh biscuits. I was marrying a man that had turned out to be a _mean_ cook.  
  
         Before I went downstairs, I peeked into Phoenix’s nursery to find him standing in his crib, pacifier firmly in his mouth, waiting. I knew Nathan would have known he was awake, so it was odd that he was still up here. Perhaps he and I had woken up at the same time.  
  
         “Good morning, Phee!” I sang.  
  
         Phonix’s blue eyes lit up when he heard my voice and he squealed in excitement. “Mama!”  
  
         I hurried over and scooped him up. His bed head was magnificent. Phoenix jabbered while I carried him down to the kitchen. He had so much to say, I couldn’t wait until he knew more words. Nathan was by the oven, fixing me a plate of food, and he smiled over his shoulder when I came in.  
  
         “Good morning, love,” he said brightly. “Phoenix’s bottle is warmed up. Hand him over, I’ll feed him while you eat.” He traded me a plate for our son and I settled down at the breakfast bar while he leaned against the counter.  
  
         “This is amazing,” I praised, gulping down my first mouthful.  
  
         “Thank you.”  
  
         I glanced up and he had a crease between his eyebrows. I didn’t like that face. “Is something wrong?” I asked.  
  
         “I…um…I have an odd question for you,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other.  
  
         “What is it?”  
  
         “Did…did Viktor come in our room last night? I smelled him in there when I came back, but he also met me in my usual hunting spot. Did he come in after I left here?”  
  
         “Yes,” I said, thinking quickly about how I would word this. “He knocked first, though.”  
  
         “You were awake when he came?” He said these words with more than a hint of relief. “What did he want?”  
  
         “He told me congratulations.”  
  
         “He did?”  
  
         “Yeah. He wasn’t exactly…complementary. He acknowledged that I had my ring on and told me congratulations.”  
  
         “Oh.” The furrow was back between Nathan’s eyebrows. “That’s…nice of him. He wasn’t threatening, was he? Did he seem angry at all?”  
  
         “No, he wasn’t mad,” I replied. “He wasn’t scary either. He was good; I told you, he even knocked. Why are you so worried about it?”  
  
         “It’s just out of character for him to pop in on you like that. He hasn’t done that before. And he didn’t tell me about it when we met up.”  
  
         I chose to shrug instead of replying and took another bite. I seemed to have evaded his internal lie detector, though I would eventually have to explain that Viktor had showed up because I’d asked him to. I didn’t want Nathan to worry that he needed to have a boundary talk with his father. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about how strong Nathan’s sense of smell was; of course he would have known Viktor had come in.  
  
         I had finished my plate by the time Phee was done with his bottle. Nathan burped him while I washed dishes.  
  
         “What are your plans for the day?” He asked.  
  
         “Now that we don’t have to go to the warehouse, I’d actually like to go back in my studio today. I’ve missed it.”  
  
         “Now that you know about the house, I can go visit the construction site,” he laughed. “Do you mind keeping Phee with you?”  
  
         “Not at all. Have you not been visiting?”  
  
         “I’ve been having Viktor go,” he replied, handing over our son. “Now I’ll make him take me with.”  
  
         “Are you going right now?”  
  
         “I’ll wait until you’re outside,” he laughed, bending down to give me a kiss. “And I’ll be back to make you lunch. Call me whenever you want me; I’ll have Viktor bring me home.”  
  
         I was out in my shed with Phee playing on the floor about an hour later. I texted Viktor _He’s onto us. Be careful._  
  
         It took a few minutes, but Viktor actually texted me back.  
  
         Message Received: _He is placated. Do not text me._  
  
         I laughed and went over to my paintbrushes. He was a disagreeable man, but he did what he said he was going to do. The little chunk of copal wood was right where I’d asked him to put it. I could carve it while Nathan was at the site and even bake it dry. I could have the whole ring done in a day! I grabbed my knife but stopped before I touched the wood: I did not know how big Nathan’s finger was.  
  
         Message sent: _Measure Nathan’s ring finger for me_  
  
         Viktor appeared beside me a moment later, showing me his phone screen. “I do not like text messages. And how exactly does vone do this inconspicuously?”  
  
         “I don’t know, but if anyone could do it, I knew you could.”  
  
         “Give me a piece of paper.” I did so and he picked up a pen, making a circle. “That is how big it is.”  
  
         “How do you know that?”  
  
         “I have seen his hand,” he replied, clearly getting irritated. “I remember it. Anything else I can do for you today?”  
  
         “No, thank you. This interaction never happened.”  
  
         He regarded me for a moment, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Vhat interaction?”  
  
         He vanished and I smiled at the place he’d been standing in. He didn’t hate me. In fact, the expression he’d just had on hinted at the fact that he might even _like_ me. He also clearly knew what I was doing with the wood. If he hadn’t known when he got it for me, he knew when I texted him about finger size. He had still decided to help me so maybe he didn’t fully hate the idea of Nathan and I getting married either. It was with that happy thought in mind that I started carving. I had the rough shape done in just a few minutes, but the sanding took longer. I needed to make sure it was perfect.  
  
         Phoenix had fallen asleep by the time I was done so I carried him up to the nursery and clipped the baby monitor to my jeans. I needed to bake the ring before Nathan came back to make lunch. Copal wood is pretty soft as far as woods go, which makes it nice for carvings. The magic of using copal is in its sap. The resin it produces dries as hard as amber. Usually, with alebrijes, you just let them air dry in the sun but I didn’t have time for that, so a monitored stay in an oven on low heat would do it. I needed to make sure I didn’t burn the thing accidentally.  
  
         I waited, sitting on the kitchen floor, for two hours. The ring was the right color, which meant it was fully dry. I fished it out and carried it back to my studio in an oven mitt. While it cooled, it mixed up the paint I’d be using. I matched it exactly to the color of the stones in my ring, making sure it would look right when it dried. I put on three coats and looked over my handiwork. It was lovely, but it needed something more. Knowing that the wood of the ring was a good luck charm in itself, I decided to give Nathan a bit more protection: I painted a row of little evil eyes in a straight line around the center of the ring. To the casual viewer, it would just look like a white line or dots, but I knew Nathan would be able to see the tiny images. The paint dried and I applied three layers of epoxy resin to finish it off. I jumped when I heard his voice on the baby monitor; I’d finished just in time.  
  
         Keeping a secret from Nathan was incredibly difficult. Certainly, his gift made it hard to hide things from him, but he wasn’t even asking me questions that might give it away. I just wasn’t able to tell him, since I wanted his ring to be a surprise. I disliked withholding information from him; I wanted him to know everything. I knew I wouldn’t be able to last long. I would have to give it to him that night or I would burst. Before that could happen, though, we had an important family meeting to arrange.  
  
         We didn’t eat dinner at our house; instead, we went to Mamá’s. She wasn’t expecting us, but I knew she’d be grateful we were there after we made our announcement. I hid my ring in my pocket—right beside Nathan’s, which I’d decided to carry on me—so that I could make the biggest impression on everyone when I finally said it. I knew Mamá would go nuts. When I walked in the door though, she was irritated.  
  
         “I didn’t know you were coming!” She huffed, stomping back into the kitchen. “Now I have to make more rice.”  
  
         “You’ll have to make _a lot_ more rice,” I said. “I’m inviting Manuel and Holly too.”  
  
         “Aevita!”  
  
         “I’m going to help you!”  
  
         “No,” Nathan laughed, stepping between us while he tied one of Mamá’s aprons on. “I will help you, Maria. Give me a cutting board.”  
  
         “Ay, cariño, gracias a Dios para ti!” She reached up and pulled him down by his face, kissing both his cheeks. I laughed and set Phoenix’s carrier down to un-wrap him and let him play on the living room floor. Lupe was in there watching cartoons with her brother. Chuy didn’t have much patience for babies, but his sister loved her little cousin.  
  
         “Hola, hermanita,” Frida sighed, messing up my hair as she walked behind me. “What are you doing here? Are you abandoning your son with us again?”  
  
         “Shut up, Fr-idiota.”  
  
         “It’s been a while since you used that one,” she replied, clearly unimpressed. She picked up the packet of photos I’d set down beside me and flicked it open. “What are these? Oh my god!” She burst out laughing and stole the first photo, running upstairs.  
  
         “Miguelito!” She called.  
  
         “Qué, prima?”  
  
         “Aeva está aqui. Mira esta foto de ella.”  
  
         I heard Miguel start laughing too and they both came down the stairs together, the picture between them.  
  
         “What were you _doing_?” Miguel asked, turning it around to show me. It was the picture Nathan had taken of me ages ago with my whole body tucked into my sleep shirt. I laughed when I saw it, remembering that in that picture, I had been reacting to the moment I _thought_ Nathan had been proposing to me.  
  
         “I was embarrassed about something,” I laughed, handing it back to my cousin. He smiled at it and Frida opened the photo packet again while I lifted Phoenix up into my arms.  
  
         “Give him here!” Miguelito demanded. Phee giggled as he was stolen from me and Miguel blew a huge raspberry into his cheek. He took my son into the living room and I looked back at Frida. She’d stopped speaking and was staring down at the photo in her hands, mouth slightly open.  
  
         “What?” I asked. She looked up at me and wordlessly turned the picture around. It was the one I’d taken of Nathan after he’d told me he wouldn’t show up on film. He was laughing and staring right at the camera.  
  
         “ _Dios_ ,” Frida whispered. “Sometimes I forget how he looks, you know?”  
  
         I stood right beside her so we could stare at it together. My beautiful fiancé laughed back at us. He was just as breathtaking on film as he was in real life. I’d forgotten all about taking that picture, but I was so glad I had. He was laughing just like Papá had been in the photos I had of him. I wanted to hang them next to each other in my studio.  
  
         “Call Manuel,” I said suddenly, taking the rest of the pictures out of Frida’s hands. “You can’t see the rest of these until he’s here. Tengo noticias.”  
  
         “Are you going to tell us anything interesting?” She said, her eyebrows shooting up. “Like _interesting_ interesting?” She leaned in close and whispered as quietly as she could, “Are you ready to tell me if Nathan is hung or not?”  
  
         “Frida!”  
  
         Manuel and Holly came over with Mercedes, though Manuel grumbled about it plenty. He told us we were an inconvenient family and I told him to stuff it. Nathan and Mamá made more food so everyone could eat together and Frida and I set the table while Miguel watched the little ones. Doña Luisa had been napping upstairs and mis abuelitos had gone to mass with Tío Carlos. It took ages but, finally, we were all together and crammed around the dinner table. Lidia had come down from her room and taken her seat on Nathan’s other side. It was just like when he and I had lived in this house, only now I had Phoenix in my lap across the table from Frida and Lupe.  
  
         Everyone was eating and talking and as the meal wound down, Mamá looked over at Nathan and I. “Alright,” she said. “What’s the news?”  
  
         “Well,” I began, handing Phee to Nathan. I pulled out the packet of photos—the first two removed—and passed them around to my family. “Nathan and I have been working on a project. We made a marble sculpture of Papá. We made it so it looked like the little soap sculpture I made him when I was little.”  
  
         “Aevita!” Mamá cried, looking at a picture of it. “Oh, Estrella, it looks just like him. Mira, mira!” She handed the photo to Abuela and they both covered their mouths. Abuela was looking at her son again.  
  
         “Where is the statue?” Manuel asked. “I want to see it in person.”  
  
         “Sí,” Abuelo agreed. “Where is it?”  
  
         “That’s part two of our news,” I continued, grinning. “It’s up at the clearing where we used to camp, but Nathan is having a house built there.”  
  
         This made the whole table erupt in questions and exclamations. Nathan fielded as many of the inquiries as he could and I inconspicuously slipped my ring onto my finger. I sat back down and leaned my chin on my left hand to watch the scene before me.  
  
         “When will it be finished?”  
  
         “Your dad bought the whole _forest_?”  
  
         “Aeva saw a bear there once; is it safe?”  
  
         “How did you two figure out how to carve marble?”  
  
         Frida was the first to see my ring and her eyes went huge. “CALLA TODOS!” She shouted, leaping to her feet. “Look at Aeva’s hand! _Look at Aeva’s hand_!” My whole family paused and, almost as a single unit, their eyes shifted to the ring on my finger.  
  
         “THEY’RE ENGAGED!”  
  
         “Estan novios!”  
  
         “When did you propose, Nathan?”  
  
         “Who is your maid of honor. It’s me right?”  
  
         “She likes me better.”  
  
         “Nathan, where did you find that ring? It’s beautiful!”  
  
         “Right, but your dad _bought_ a forest.”  
  
         The room was just as loud as it had been when Manuel had proposed to Holly. It was another tradition of sorts: scream at a newly engaged couple. I was laughing and they were all pushing around the table to hug and kiss us. I had been happy—overjoyed, even—at the fact that Nathan had proposed. My family was having a melt down and their enthusiasm filled my heart to bursting. They loved Nathan, too.  
  
         We were at my mother’s house celebrating until almost midnight. Even without any warning, my family could throw together a party. Phoenix was so deeply asleep when we brought him home, he was potentially comatose. It was _well_ past his bed time. I tucked him in and Nathan waited for me in our room. When I came in, I specifically ignored him and went to the dresser to pull out my pajamas.  
  
         “Can I see what you’re hiding now?” He asked, setting his hands on my hips.  
  
         “What are you talking about?” I asked, smiling as he bowed his head and kissed my shoulder. I had tried to keep him from knowing about his ring, but I knew he’d figure it out somehow. I just wanted to know how.  
  
         “Your hands smelled when you came in from your studio today,” he murmured, slipping his hands into my back pockets. “You’ve washed them since then and I can still smell it, so I know you’ve been carrying something.” He slid his left hand around to my front pocket.  
  
         “You can smell it?”  
  
         “And I can see the shape through your jeans,” he laughed, finally moving his right hand to my front right pocket and dipping his fingers inside.  
  
         “If you knew the whole time what pocket it was in, what was all that searching then?”  
  
         He chuckled and set his left hand back in my back pocket, making me laugh. We both looked down as he pulled his ring out with his other hand and I held my breath, hoping he’d like it.  
  
         “Aeva,” he said, immediately standing up straight. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, just a few inches from his face and turned it slowly, inspecting it from every angle. “What is this made of?”  
  
         “Copal,” I replied. “It’s the wood alebrijes are supposed to be made of. It’s supposed to have magical properties; it’s good luck. It grows all over Oaxaca.”  
  
         “Did you hand carve my ring?”  
  
         “And hand painted it. Is it too much color? I picked that shade because it matches mine. I can tone it down, if you want.”  
  
         “What are the dots?”  
  
         “That’s _mal ojo_ ,” I replied. “It’s a protective thing. Stops you from being cursed by someone who wishes evil on you. It’s the evil eye.”  
  
         He took his other hand off of me and rolled his ring from palm to palm, still staring at it. “Aeva,” he repeated. “This is amazing.”  
  
         “You like it?”  
  
         He looked at me like I was crazy. “You have to ask? This is you and your heritage in a _ring_. Thank you, love.” He moved to put it on and I grabbed his hands to stop him.  
  
         “Wait,” I said. “Can I do it? Can I put it on you?”  
  
         He smiled and let me take the ring out of his palm, offering me his left hand. I slipped it on an he held his hand out in front of himself, admiring it. The blue stood out magnificently against his white skin.  
  
         “I’m a marked man,” he said, sounding very satisfied. “I’m claimed.”  
  
         “You’re pleased about that?” I laughed.  
  
         “Very. It’s the second time in my entire life I’ve ever worn a ring like this.”  
  
         His words shook me out of my happy stupor. Nathan had been married before. I looked down at the ring he’d given me: I’d worn an engagement ring once before, too. The ring Jason had given me was a simple gold band with a square cut diamond. It had been beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the one I had now. I looked up at Nathan and he was just _so_ beautiful; I loved him so much more than I’d ever thought I was capable of. My entire relationship with Jason felt so small compared to what I’d found with my future husband.  
  
         I changed into a sleep shirt and Nathan and I climbed under our sheets together. We’d been working for so long on the statue of Papá. Nathan had apparently also been juggling an entire house in secret. My mind was racing, thinking about all the things an engagement meant: a ceremony, a reception, showers, bridesmaids, dress hunting, vendors.  
  
         Nathan laid down facing me and laid his left hand on the pillow between our heads, palm up. I smiled and slipped my left hand into his, our rings gently clicking together. In that touch, my mind shut off. All that mattered was that I had my fiancé right in front of me and my son sleeping in his crib.  
  
         “Nathan,” I whispered.  
  
         “What is it, love?”  
  
         “I can’t wait to marry you.”  
  
         “I can’t either.”  
  
         “Also, yesterday, Viktor came to the room because I asked him to. I needed him to get the wood for your ring.”  
  
         He chuckled at that for a moment. “Any other secrets you feel like telling?”  
  
         “No,” I grinned, leaning forward to kiss him. “I’m out of secrets.”  
  
         He kissed my forehead and I was out almost immediately.  



	28. Settled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan tells Aeva the last of his secrets

###  _Nathan_

         She was deep asleep, laying on her side slightly curved toward me. Her arm was on mine, her left hand curled into a fist in my palm. I had been staring at our hands on the pillow for quite some time, watching her fingers twitch while she slept. She had said yes to me. I don’t know why I’d thought there was a risk of her saying no, but I certainly had. I’d believed in that risk as well, I’d just had no plan for what I would have done if she’d looked down at me and said, “no.” I was glad I hadn’t had to figure it out. Instead, I got to lie in bed with my fianceé and wear the ring she gave me. There wasn’t enough light in the room to make her ring shine, but I could see it perfectly. Mine looked exactly right beside it. I would have stayed there staring until she woke up had I not heard rustling from the other end of the house. Phoenix was moving around.  
  
         I leaned forward and kissed the back of Aeva’s hand before easing mine out from under hers. I rolled the comforter off of her—a deeply engrained habit at that point—and hurried to the kitchen to heat Phoenix’s morning bottle. Phee’s breakfast was warmed and ready before he was awake enough to cry. He had just started letting out frustrated little grunts when I scooped him up and sat down in the rocking chair promptly at 5am.  
  
         “Good morning,” I whispered. “How are you today?”  
  
         He grunted again as he drank. He hadn’t spoken a word since waking up; he hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes yet. If I had timed things right, after he burped he would go right back to sleep for a few more hours. Our son operated like clockwork and Aeva and I both knew his patterns. When the bottle was empty, I turned him over and balanced his little body on my forearm just like Maria had shown me, supporting his neck with my fingers. I bounced him gently and he gurgled a bit and tossed his little fists around. I couldn’t resist, so I leaned down and smelled him. He didn’t smell like his mother, but I liked his scent nonetheless. I kissed the back of his head and he promptly vomited down my hand.  
  
         “Yes, excellent,” I muttered, wiping the dripping mess off my forearm. When I turned him back over, he had a tiny smile on his face. “You are too pleased with yourself, little one,” I laughed, settling him against my bare chest. I hadn’t bothered to dress; I was still in the same pair of shorts I’d been in all night. It didn’t make a difference; he fell right back asleep, just like I knew he would. He was so content to sleep wrapped up in my cold hands there was no debating whose child he was. I stroked his soft black hair and ran my fingertips over his fat little cheeks. His eyes moved under his eyelids as he started to dream. I’d had the thought that my marrying Aeva might mean something special would change in his life, but nothing would be different for him. I’d seen the birth certificate: Aeva had already written down that he was mine. For him, our wedding would be nothing more than a ceremony he wouldn’t remember. I sat and watched him, absentmindedly rocking us both back and forth in the chair. It was nice to be awake at night and to get to watch my people sleep. I liked that Phoenix and Aeva had identical creases between their eyebrows that showed up when they changed positions.  
  
         Eventually, Phoenix shivered and that was my cue to set him back in his crib. He was his mother’s son, for sure, but he was still a baby. He couldn’t sleep against me for hours like Aeva could; not yet. I set him back down and he made a little humming noise; I took it as a good sign and left him there to sleep, heading down to the living room. The sun was just coming up so I camped myself on the window seat and stretched out face down. I had to bend one leg at the knee and toss the other over the arm of one of the chairs to fit, but it was comfortable enough. I was content to lay in that ridiculous position and do nothing for a while.  
  
         Everything was out in the open and I was coasting on a massive wave of relief. I had no more secrets from Aeva _and_ I had proposed. I was going to marry her, finally. I didn’t want to start the planning for that just yet, though. My life had been nothing by tasks for so many months. This was the first day where it felt like things had actually paused and, if I had it my way, I’d spend the entirety of it laying on the window seat. Slowly, the skin on my back warmed as the sun came up. I stayed there for an hour or two, continuing my lazy morning until I heard movement upstairs. Aeva had gotten out of bed.  
  
         “Nathan!”  
  
         “I’m here!” I called back, not moving from my sun spot. I heard her shuffle down the stairs and into the room, stopping to laugh when she saw me.  
  
         “You’re like a cat,” she teased, coming over and running her fingertips up my back. “Like a really big cat. Or maybe a lizard.”  
  
         I looked up and smiled at her. She still looked sleepy, but she was smiling back. “You’re looking good today,” I commented, rolling onto my back and patting my chest, offering her a place to lay. She laughed again and climbed up. I thought she might lay her head on my shoulder, but instead she laid on her back so she could sun herself too. She was half leaning, half laying across me and it took some rearranging to make us both fit. When we were settled, I was sort of leaning on the glass of the window and I had one knee bent while the other leg hung over and rested on the floor. Both of her legs were tossed over this one and she had her hair draped over my shoulder. Apparently not entirely content with the arrangement, she grabbed the hem of my shorts and hiked them up so my whole leg was exposed and glittering.  
  
         “Thank you,” I laughed.  
  
         She patted my thigh and said, “You’re welcome.” She stayed like that, just staring at her own hand against my leg. It was her left hand, but she wasn’t admiring her ring.  
  
         “You’re definitely tanner than me, if that’s what you’re wondering.”  
  
         “Can you feel this?”  
  
         “What?”  
  
         She moved her hand and ran her fingertips up and down my thigh, from hip to knee and back again. “Can you feel this?”  
  
         “Yes,” I replied.  
  
         “Is it nice?”  
  
         “Yes, very much so.” She grinned and moved her hand like a spider, quickly skittering her fingertips across my inner thigh.  
  
         “Aeva!” I laughed, grabbing her hand and putting it firmly on my knee. “Stop that.”  
  
         “Sorry,” she said, lacking any apologetic tone in her voice. She moved her hand back to its original place in the middle of my thigh. “Just testing.”  
  
         “Yes, I can feel when you touch me. Why were you wondering?”  
  
         “You don’t have any give. Your skin doesn’t move.” She pressed her hand down to prove her point. “So I wasn’t sure how much sensation you had.”  
  
         “I feel you very clearly,” I replied, running my fingers through her hair. “Are you starting another interrogation? We haven’t done one of those in a long time. What other questions do you have for me?”  
  
         “I had a list made up in my head the other night, actually.”  
  
         “Fire away.” Viktor didn’t like it when I did this; when I let Aeva ask me anything and everything under the sun. He felt that she was getting to know too much about vampires. I didn’t mind so much anymore. My only real complaint had been that I might say something to scare her off, but she’d made it abundantly clear we were staying together. “What is your first one?” I asked.  
  
         “How fast can you run? And how long can you run that fast?”  
  
         “Vampires are sprinters when it comes to our _top_ speeds,” I replied. “But if we’re running long distance, we can go in excess of 100 miles per hour. It differs slightly based on the vampire. Larger vampires are generally slower than smaller ones; males are usually slower than females. Newborns are outrageously quick.”  
  
         “So if you had a small, newborn female?”  
  
         “Set a trap; you won’t catch her otherwise.”  
  
         She laughed at that and continued stroking my leg. If Aeva were ever turned, she’d be very fast. She already had very good reflexes, those would only become more pronounced. I would wager she’d be a good fighter. But it didn’t matter; Aeva was not going to be changed.  
  
         “Only one question?” I asked after a few moments. “That’s very unlike you. I thought you had a list.”  
  
         “I fell asleep making the list, I’m trying to remember…oh, where do you hunt?”  
  
         “I hunt at the clearing,” I replied. “Though I’ll need to find somewhere else once we live there. The animals will avoid our house because of my scent.”  
  
         “What do you smell like to them?”  
  
         “A predator.”  
  
         “Well you smell like cinnamon sugar to me,” she laughed. “But obviously I’m missing something. You have a really strong sense of smell. You knew Viktor had visited, you knew I had the ring in my pocket. So what do I smell like to you? Or do you just smell my shampoo?”  
  
         “I can smell your soap,” I laughed, curling a tendril of her hair around my index finger. “But you smell like…oranges and cloves and chiles and earth.”  
  
         “I smell like earth? Like dirt?”  
  
         “Mmhmm,” I said, reaching down to take her wrist. I pressed it to my nose and breathed deeply. “More like clay. Clay and chocolate and burnt wood and lilies. All those things, all at once, all mixed together. The oranges, chiles, and chocolate are the strongest.”  
  
         “What does Phoenix smell like?”  
  
         “Plums and lilac and cedar and cocoa and the way black berries taste.” I kissed her wrist and her palm and her finger tips and set her hand back down. “The plums and cocoa are strongest on him.”  
  
         “Do those things smell good to you? They’re all human food.”  
  
         “Cedar and clay are not food,” I chided. “But yes, they smell good. I just don’t eat those things.”  
  
         “But all wrapped together like that, they smell like something you want to eat?”  
  
         “Add the scent of blood and everything smells like something I want to eat. Your individual scent is like…it’s like seasoning or spices.”  
  
         “Do you ever want to bite me?”  
  
         “And drink your blood?”  
  
         “Yeah.”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         She craned her head around to look at me. “Really? Like, often?”  
  
         “All the time,” I said, looking her right in the eyes and smiling. “It’s less of an urge when I’m full, though.”  
  
         “Your eyes were dark the other day.”  
  
         “Yes, they were. I was getting to the end of my comfortable limit.”  
  
         “So did you want to eat me at the house site, when you proposed?”  
  
         “No.”  
  
         She sat up and made a face. “You’re sending some mixed messages, sir.”  
  
         I laughed and sighed.  
  
         “Do you need a minute to think through it?” She asked. I nodded and she laid back down, happy to wait. She was never bothered by my need to think. Viktor said it was abnormal that I had to do this; he thought I might have had a learning disability as a human. It only took me a few moments before I knew what I wanted to say.  
  
         “There is a part of my brain that never shuts up about wanting to bite you,” I explained. “You smell very good to me. You’re young and healthy, so your blood is good _and_ you smell the way you do. It’s potent, for sure and my body tells me you would be good to drink. But a bigger, louder part of my brain tells me that if I bite you, then there’s no more you. And that’s not an option for me, so I tell the hunter part of my head to pipe down.”  
  
         “Because I’m your _mate_.”  
  
         “That’s just a term we use,” I said apologetically. “You don’t have to call yourself that, especially not now. You’re not just a _mate_ , it’s just…”  
  
         “It’s fine,” she laughed. “I am your mate though?”  
  
         “Yes,” I said, smiling and looking out the window. “And my fiancée.” I would have turned red if I’d been able.  
  
         “Just as long as I’m the only one.”  
  
         “I only get one mate, so yes, you’re it. My very real one and only.”  
  
         “Has it always been just me?”  
  
         “What do you mean?”  
  
         “Have you dated other people?”  
  
         I was almost shocked to realize this was the first time she’d asked this. She had asked about who I’d been with as a human and she knew that, but she didn’t know what relationships were like between vampires. She might not be happy to hear what I had to say about it. “Um…well…I mean, I’m a little over 270 years old,” I said, sitting up. She sat up to, so we each had half of the bench and we were facing one another. “What I mean is, I’ve…had a lot of time to…”  
  
         “So, yes?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “Other humans?”  
  
         “No, you’re the only human,” I murmured, leaning forward to nuzzle the hollow of her neck. She smiled and let me kiss her skin, turning her head so her lips were against my ear.  
  
         “Who were the vampires?” She whispered.  
  
         I laughed and sat back, tossing my arms down in my lap in defeat. “You have a morbid sense of curiosity, you know that?”  
  
         “And you’re evasive!” She laughed, nudging my knee with hers. “How many did you date? A hundred?”  
  
         “No! That would almost be a new person every two and a half years.”  
  
         “So fifty?”  
  
         “One.”  
  
         “Fifty one?”  
  
         “No,” I laughed. “Just one.”  
  
         “In 270 years you were only ever with one other vampire before me?”  
  
         I wasn’t sure if she was going to understand what I had to tell her. “No, I only _dated_ one other vampire; it was just the one exclusive relationship.” I was watching her face, gauging her reaction. “I’d had…here’s more terminology for you. Vampires call them _trysts_. They happen.”  
  
         “Oh, like one night stands.”  
  
         “Not exactly. When you’re a nomad and you meet another nomad, you sort of have just two options for how that interaction is going to end.”  
  
         “What are they?”  
  
         “Fight or fuck,” I laughed, giving her a shrug. Her eyebrows shot up and her expression turned incredulous. “It’s just a dominance thing. But once you establish the rules the first time, the next time you see that vampire, if you chose sex…well…you know. You might as well do it again.”  
  
         “Oh my god, have you had sex with all your friends?” She was grinning now and I didn’t like it.  
  
         “No, I fought a lot of them too. I mean, you absolutely don’t mess with anyone in a mated pair unless you have a death wish, and on top of that—“  
  
         She made a strange face and it made me stop talking.  
  
         “What?” I asked.  
  
         “So because of me…” she said, voice very quiet. “You’ll never have sex again.”  
  
         I burst out laughing and she looked a little hurt. “Aeva,” I chuckled, taking both her hands in mine. “Oh, love, I’m sorry for laughing, you’re just thinking of it wrong. It’s not like that. If I met a nomad right now, any option other than fight wouldn’t cross my mind. If I saw one of my old friends, I wouldn’t think to…reacquaint myself with them that way.”  
  
         “Why not?”  
  
         “I have my mate,” I murmured, kissing her knuckles. “Why would I ever want anyone else?”  
  
         “Mate stuff is serious business, huh?”  
  
         “Very serious,” I agreed, looking back up at her. “For most vampires, it’s the only real relationship they’ll ever have.”  
  
         “But not you? Why not?”  
  
         “The vampire I was with was…odd. Odd as our kind goes, but as normal as a human might hope to find. Remember when I told you about stationary covens and how they become more human the longer they practice?”  
  
         “You were with one of those vampires?”  
  
         “Yes,” I said, smiling. “Edward Cullen.”  
  
         She didn’t even blink. “You’ve talked about him before. Did you meet him after you left the Volturi?”  
  
         “Yes, much later. He wasn’t even alive when I left them. I met him right after his newborn year was over.”  
  
         “Was that coincidence or planned?”  
  
         “The first year is difficult,” I sighed, not wanting to go too in depth. “New vampires are unruly. They run on instinct and they’re very strong, so they’re not much fun to be around. Or they’re very fun, depending on how you look at it. Carlisle, his father, waited until he had settled and introduced him to Viktor and I.”  
  
         “Did you date him right away?”  
  
         “Um…sort of.” I smiled and looked away and she gasped, patting my hand to tell me to keep talking. “We were friends because of our fathers, but we were also… _friends_ for much of that time.”  
  
         “Did you tryst?”  
  
         “Yes,” I laughed. “Well no, not at first. But kind of. He was pretty...I want a better word than prudish. Calling him a prude sounds mean.”  
  
         “Conservative? Cautious? Traditional?”  
  
         “Traditional, that’s a good one. Edward was pretty traditional.”  
  
         “Obviously not _that_ traditional, because he was with a man.”  
  
         “True,” I allowed. “But he was nervous about it.”  
  
         “Nervous about…like…it hurting?”  
  
         “Oh my _lord_ ,” I laughed, actually slapping a hand over my mouth. “I…I guess probably. I meant the emotional turmoil that occurs when one reconciles a religious background both with being a vampire and a little gay, but sure. I bet he was nervous that sex might hurt, too.”  
  
         “Were you nervous for it?”  
  
         “No, I knew what to expect.” It took a moment, but when she processed what I’d said, she smiled and waggled her eyebrows at me. I rolled my eyes, thankful yet again that I couldn’t blush.  
  
         “Okay, okay, let’s get back on track,” she said, staring straight ahead and bracing both her hands on her knees. “You were secretly dating Edward as soon as you met him.”  
  
         “No, not as soon as I met him. Just…pretty soon afterward. But he was worried about it, so it was very tame to start. We only kissed a few times.”  
  
         “Aw, that’s so middle school.”  
  
         “He was a newborn!”  
  
         “Does going through the change often result in a sexual awakening?”  
  
         “Aeva, please take this seriously. He was a wonderful partner and you’re being a dick about it.”  
  
         “A _dick_?” She laughed, throwing one hand theatrically over her heart. “Did you just call me a dick? I am your fiancée—I’m your mate—you can’t call me a dick!”  
  
         “I did not have a middle school romance with Edward Cullen. We shared some genuine feelings.”  
  
         “Like us?”  
  
         “…What?”  
  
         She wasn’t playing around anymore, but was looking at me with her head slightly cocked. “I have some genuine feelings about you.”  
  
         “Well I hope so. We’re getting married.”  
  
         “Well, yeah, but is this…is this kind of like what you had with Edward?”  
  
         I thought for a moment before answering. “No. This feels different. There isn’t a better match for me than you. But Edward was…definitely second place to this. Not as big of a deal…”  
  
         “…but still a big deal.”  
  
         “Yeah.”  
  
         “I get that,” she said, nodding. “You’re a bigger deal than Phoenix’s dad, but like, Phee’s dad was still a pretty big deal, I guess. Anyway, when did you and Edward make things exclusive?”  
  
         I smiled at her. She was relentless. “He took a break from his parents, Carlisle and Esme, right around 1930.”  
  
         “ _Right around 1930_?” She mimicked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
         “1927,” I said, smiling at being caught. Of course I remembered the year and of course she knew it. “It was March.”  
  
         “Why did he take a break?”  
  
         “He was struggling with the doctor’s diet. So, he left and found the only other people he knew that were also just wandering around. When he found Viktor and I, he’d killed somebody. His mother’s former human husband; he’d been abusive. Ed’s plan was to be a sort of…vigilante. He only killed bad people; he figured that made it less of a terrible thing to kill them.”  
  
         “That’s very dramatic.”  
  
         “Yes,” I laughed. “Edward has always been very dramatic. He’s a romantic, though. It was charming.”  
  
         “He sounds like a musician.”  
  
         “Piano player, actually.”  
  
         “Of course he is.”  
  
         “He used to play for me; I liked it. He was very emotional and poetic.”  
  
         She laughed and I rolled my eyes. She was teasing, but she was being good about it. After a moment, her face turned thoughtful again and she asked, “Did you love him?”  
  
         “I did,” I nodded. I wanted to hide absolutely nothing from Aeva now; she could have the honest answer to any question she asked. “I still do, I suppose, but differently now. I mean, it’s not brotherly by any means. It’s still affectionate, but it’s nostalgic.”  
  
         “How long were you two together?”  
  
         “Five years. The last year was long distance, through letters. He went back to live with his family.”  
  
         “He didn’t take you?”  
  
         “Viktor didn’t want me living with the Cullens.”  
  
         “Petty bastard.”  
  
         “He was fine with me being with Edward,” I said, quick to defend my father on this point. “He was fine with Edward temporarily joining our coven. His only limit was me moving in with Carlisle, because he didn’t want me to like the doctor better than him, so I let him win that one.”  
  
         “What was it like having him live with you?”  
  
         I grinned and kissed her forehead. “Not nearly as nice as it is with you. But it was good to have him around. He’s able to read minds and that was occasionally irritating, but in general, it was nice.”  
  
         “He’s a mind reader?”  
  
         “He is,” I affirmed. “Any thought you’re currently having, Edward can hear. He can also choose to look through your eyes to see what you’re seeing. He has trouble killing humans because of it; he can hear what they’re thinking.”  
  
         “So, like you,” she said, nodding. “I mean, you’re different, obviously, but you get to know their whole life first. Are there other vampires like that? Other ones whose gift makes it hard for them to hunt humans?”  
  
         “One of Edward’s new brothers had similar troubles. He’s a mood controller, an empath. He feels people’s emotions as he kills them and it takes a toll.”  
  
         “Okay, that is interesting and I’ll need more time to think of my questions for it,” she smiled. “But keep going with this story. Five years and then what?”  
  
         “Oh,” I said, grimacing. “Then he sent me _The Letter_.”  
  
         “The Letter?”  
  
         Decades old irritation welled back up. “Yes, _The Letter_. I have never been so offended by anything in my life. I told you he was poetic, right?”  
  
         “Yes.”  
  
         “And dramatic?”  
  
         “Yes.” Her eyes flashed with intense curiosity and I knew she’d fully appreciate the story.  
  
         “Well, all the letters he wrote to me during that last year were every bit as poetic as he was. I mean, my letters didn’t lack for poetry or passion either. I kept up with him, but he …he would send me these beautiful novellas. His last one had this…tangent in it… You have to understand, he’s never been able to forgive himself for being a vampire. He thinks we’re monsters.”  
  
         “There is a lot of classic literature supporting that concept.”  
  
         “I know,” I said, rubbing my temple. “Believe me, I know. We read all of it. Some of it was read _to_ me while we were _in our bed_. On multiple occasions, we’d finish being…intimate and I would be on cloud nine and he would roll over and pick up some huge, dusty book and start reading me some depressing passage about a vampire mauling a village.”  
  
         “Oh,” she said, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s…dark.”  
  
         “Yeah, he was working through some things. Anyway, he was and—as far as I know—is still fixated on this idea of vampires being monsters. He and I had talked about it quite a bit; I understood where he was coming from. It’s hard to transition into vampirism; he still had all his human memories. His head was a sad place…  
  
         “Anyway, _The Letter_. He had a passage in there about how he felt like a monster. But he was conflicted, because he didn’t think Carlisle was a monster. For him, something that proved this was that Carlisle was in love with Esme, and he didn’t believe that monsters could feel love.”  
  
         “Hold on,” she said, putting up a hand to stop me. “If monsters can’t feel love then what exactly was going on with you two?”  
  
         “Precisely what I was wondering when I read it!” I huffed. It was nice to have her on my side about it. Viktor hadn’t really cared. “He had _told_ me he loved me on multiple occasions, and I had told him too.”  
  
         “Did he write anything else?”  
  
         “Oh, he wrote _plenty_. I was hopeful that he was going to turn it around, but he moved on to an analysis of Carlisle’s relationship with Esme. Edward was pretty fixated on the fact that the two of them couldn’t reproduce. He said that the most pure form of love was between a parent and their child; romantic love was tainted, because sex was involved.”  
  
         “Was he serious?”  
  
         “Edward is _always_ serious. But he was really upset that he could never be a father. He decided that the fact that he would always be unable to achieve that pure form of love was proof that he was a monster.”  
  
         “An inability to have children made him a monster?” She said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s stupid. Lots of people can’t have kids. That doesn’t make them monsters.”  
  
         “I know, but he was young. And he was very good at coming up with reasons why he was a monster; like I said, it was a struggle for him. He ended that passage with the ultimate slap in the face to me, _his lover_. He said that since he couldn’t ever have children, he would never marry and, since he would never marry, he would remain a virgin for his entire life.”  
  
         She stared at me in silence for a moment, soaking in this last comment. “Did…” she began, “did he not understand what you two…?”  
  
         “He said he was still a virgin because I was a man. He said it _didn’t count_.”  
  
         She shoved herself to her feet and shouted at me. “ _What?_ It didn’t count? Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
         “Call me crazy, but it counted, right?”  
  
         “Of _course_ it counted,” she fumed. “Honestly, how dare he? You two had sex! You had sex. He got to have you naked, all over him, all up in his guts—“  
  
         “That’s a disgusting phrase.”  
  
         “—and he has the audacity to say it didn’t count? I mean like…maybe, _maybe_ I could see it if he was never, you know…like if he only played catcher?”  
  
         “Please don’t use sports euphemisms,” I said. “And he didn’t.”  
  
         “I’m furious, call him right now. I’m going to yell at him in Spanish.”  
  
         “I’m not _calling_ him,” I laughed. “You do not get to yell at him, in Spanish or otherwise.”  
  
         “No, dial him up. Escucháme, cabrón,” she said, holding her hand up to her face like it was a phone. “No eres virgen. Has tenido una verga en to culo, tonto. Había una pinga en tu boca. Sí tú eres virgen, pues yo también. Soy la Virgen María.”  
  
         “You’re right, we should call him.”  
  
         “We should write him a letter.”  
  
         “Aeva!” I laughed, standing up and wrapping my arms around her. She started laughing too and I kissed the top of her head.  
  
         She linked her arms around my middle and muttered, “I don’t know him but he sounds like a punk.”  
  
         “No, he was nice. Sort of a pompous ass, but generally nice.”  
  
         “He was the poetic musician we _all_ have in our dating histories,” she laughed, looking up at me. “You needed to get it out of your system, like dating as a teen.”  
  
         “He actually…” I stopped when her eyebrows went up.  
  
         “He actually what?”  
  
         “Edward…Edward _is_ a teenager,” I admitted. “He was changed when he was young.”  
  
         “How young?”  
  
         “He was…seventeen.”  
  
         Her mouth dropped open and she batted my chest. “Nathan! A seventeen-year-old? Really? How long had he been a vampire when you two got together?”  
  
         “He’d only been a vampire for twelve years or so.”  
  
         “Well what did you expect, coño? He was a baby. He was too young for you.”  
  
         “He was only two years younger than you were when we met.”  
  
         That barely made her pause. She snapped right back with, “But I’m twenty-one now. A much more respectable age for a twenty-five-year-old man.”  
  
         “A two hundred and seventy-five-year-old man.”  
  
         “Alright,” she said, putting up her hands. “Alright, I can’t comment on the age difference. But you _did_ date a musician.”  
  
         “Is my new plan any better, really? Settle down with an artist?”  
  
         “Yes, you’re settling down with me,” she said, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me to her. “You and I are getting _married_.”  
  
         “We are,” I agreed. “We’re getting married.” I leaned down to kiss her and she smiled into it. Edward Cullen had said something over seventy years ago that I was still dwelling on, but what did it matter when I was holding Aeva Sanchez in my arms, her mouth pressed to mine? What did an old boyfriend matter when I was with my future wife? She was absolutely everything and she wanted me to be her husband. I was going to be a husband and a father in just about the least traditional manner I could imagine.  
  
         I could hardly wait.  



End file.
